Last Men of Letters
by dracox-serdriel
Summary: Supernatural epic that is canon-divergent after 08x20 Pac-Man Fever. The Winchesters fight to slam the Gates of Hell forever believing that banishing demons from the earth will end the need for hunting. Unfortunately, many topside don't appreciate Hunters trying to mess with the natural order, and the denizens of Purgatory still have a foothold on earth.
1. Deep in the Hole and Shackles

**Spoilers** : Events in this story reference events, cases, monsters, demons, and characters from all episodes of Supernatural canon from 01x01 Pilot through 08x20 Pac-Man Fever.

 **Author's note:** This Supernatural Epic fic comes from three of my existing Supernatural series, which stand as fanfic version of seasons 8, 9, and 10 that are canon-divergent after the episode 08x20 Pac-Man Fever. The current series stands at 32 Episodes with 165 Chapters and approximately 300,000 words.

This epic follows the same case!Fic and plot as the episodic series I wrote, but it has been adapted into a new format and edited to be rated M or lower. Since removing the adult content from the series, I thought adapting elements of the story would be an interesting challenge. Rather than posting a series of shorter episodes, the story will be a single, epic Supernatural fanfic.

 **Relationships** : Destiel (Dean/Castiel relationship) and Sam/OFC

 **Warning** : While the explicit adult content has been removed during the adaptation of this story, it still contains canon-level violence and strong elements of terror, horror, and fantasy.

* * *

 **THEN**

The Winchesters completed the First Trial, saving Ellie from a Hellhound, as well as the Second Trial, rescuing Bobby's soul from Hell.

Naomi forced Castiel to obtain the Angel Tablets by any means necessary, but once he touched it, he became free of her influence and fled everyone, including Sam and Dean.

Kevin, fearful that Crowley had somehow gotten inside his head, fled the safe house, and Charlie assisted the Winchesters on a case as Sam's condition worsened.

* * *

 **NOW  
Part One  
Trials of Hell and Heart**

 **Chapter One  
Deep in the Hole with Shackles**

"What broke the connection?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. I just know that I have to protect this tablet now," Cas replied as he gripped the Angel Tablet tighter.

"From Naomi?"

"Yes," the angel replied. Castiel looked into Dean's eyes. He wanted to escape with the hunter, to take cover with the Winchesters, but -

"And from you," Cas said to Dean.

"From me? What do you mean?" Dean asked as Cas teleported. Dean kept speaking. "Cas? Cas! Damn it!"

* * *

 _Cas, I don't know what the hell is going on or what you meant, but you better get your feathery ass down here! We can help you protect the tablet, we've got a place to hide it. Damn it, Cas! You gotta trust me, you bastard!_

Castiel heard Dean's prayer as he finalized a secondary safe house in Vancouver, Canada.

He wanted to call Dean and explain himself, but he couldn't risk it. A combination of luck and Naomi's pride enabled his initial escape. Having never lost an angel she had ensnared, Naomi had no reason for contingency. By the time she marshaled a search, Castiel had boarded a bus to San Francisco, where he set up his first safe house.

Castiel had been on Earth longer and had spent more time with humans than any other angel. No amount of cutting or zapping could obliterate that kind of experience. Unless he used his angelic powers, he remained undetectable from angel radar. With Sam's lessons on hex bags, Cas hid from demons. He was, as it were, hidden from the supernatural world. For now.

However, Cas knew he couldn't avoid using his powers for long. A demon would attack, or an angel scout would spot him, and he'd have to fight or to teleport. He needed safe houses for retreat, and he assumed that, between Naomi and Crowley, all his old haunts (as well as those of the Winchesters) were now compromised.

Thus, Castiel kept himself busy. He moved constantly and continuously set up hideaways. Activity helped him focus, even as Dean's prayers snapped his heart into pieces.

* * *

 _Cas, you bastard! You keep disappearing on me. Are you even alive? What did you mean you needed to protect the tablet from me? What do you think I'm going to do with it? You think I'd hurt Kevin? Or you? I deserve to know. I deserve to hear it from you. Now!_

Before, Dean's prayers had been more like daily summaries. Cas had listened as Dean explained how his grandfather time traveled to the present and how they dealt with an old friend turned-witch at the request of his familiar.

That's assuming, of course, that Naomi hadn't compromised those memories or his ability to hear prayers.

Castiel found himself somewhere familiar. He entered a fancy hotel in Wichita, Kansas and checked in under the name Stephen Alexander Smith. The doorman recognized him and followed him into the elevator.

"Stephen," said the doorman, "you're here."

"Yes," Cas responded. Was yet another thing that Naomi had taken from him?

"You're in room 1416. Right this way."

Cas followed the doorman down the winding halls to his assigned room number.

"I am very confused," Cas said.

"Yes, Stephen," he replied, "you told me you would be. But you also said you might never come back, so – "

"Back?" Cas repeated.

"Your room," the man replied, waving his hand at the lock.

Cas fumbled with the plastic card and unlocked the door, and they both entered.

It was as if a curtain lifted up.

"Matthon?" Cas said, finally recognizing the doorman.

"Castiel."

"Brother, what are you – what are we doing here?"

Matthon spoke with concern, "You should remember everything, Castiel. Please, tell me what you can remember."

Matthon served under Anna with the Garrison. When the Leviathan captured the Prophet Kevin Tran, he left to bring the news to Heaven. He returned to find the others dead and had to go to ground. Cas did remember.

"We've met here before." Cas said slowly. "You and I?"

"Yes, many times," Matthon replied.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember."

"It's okay, that's why I'm still here. We set up an arrangement. I keep messages safe for you."

"Yes, I remember that," Cas acknowledged as his memory slowly became more accessible.

Matthon produced a DVD and said, "You gave this to me. Sometimes you add new recordings to it."

"Brother," Cas began, "you should leave. Find a new place to hide. I'm afraid I've put you in danger coming here."

"You say that every time," Matthon replied.

"This is different. It's not just heaven I'm worried about," Cas admitted. "Please, Matthon, there are so few free angels left."

"Castiel, if I leave this place, the charm on this room will be gone, and you will remember everything when you leave it."

"I understand."

"Then, be well brother," Matthon said casually.

Matthon walked away. He had the discretion to travel without the use of his power, which was something Castiel failed to consider until the other angel left the room. The angels would be looking for anything supernatural, which meant that he needed to ignore the panic he felt and leave Wichita as humanly as he arrived.

Cas raced down the fire escape and made his way to the train station.

* * *

Castiel found a discreet motel in the middle of nowhere, Montana. He covered the place in sigils and closed the curtains, desperately hoping no angel caught his trail.

He took the DVD and set it in the player, unsure if the disc had any content at all.

The TV screen showed his face. Then it panned out.

"It's on," came a voice. It sounded like Matthon, but he wasn't on the screen.

"You sure?" Cas saw himself ask.

"Yes, go on."

Cas looked at the camera, which inexpertly captured his face and half the hotel room.

"If I'm watching this, and remembering it, it's because I've figured out who has been tampering with my memories. After my return from Purgatory, I attempted to visit my friends. According to them, they kept seeing me, but not connecting. I don't remember this.

"I've lost memories. I remember the first fish with a spine, the first reptile – but I don't remember the Exodus from Egypt or Eden. I don't remember the First World War. I don't remember the Middle Ages. I'm sure there's more, but I can't remember.

"I can only conclude that someone has, or is currently, altering my memory or perceptions. I cannot stay in the presence of my friends with this possibility unresolved, so I have recorded the following information as to not lose it forever."

Castiel paused the DVD. According to the date and time stamped on the screen, he had recorded this message months ago, after that psychic-gone-cartoon case with the Winchesters. He put his hand on his abdomen, feeling the solid surface of the Angel Tablet affixed to him like armor. Did he want to watch the DVD, knowing pursuit was underway?

The angel decided that he needed to know what kind of information was there, so he pressed the play button.

He saw himself speak, "This is in no particular order, except maybe relevance to my current situation. Sam and Dean Winchester are family. They see me as family, and I see them as family.

"Anna fell to earth because she wanted to be human. She wanted to know how things felt. The Winchesters protected her and helped her, even though the forces of Hell and Heaven both vied for her. I was among the forces of Heaven with my brother Uriel."

Castiel watched himself smile; his entire face lit up with the fondness of the memory. He hadn't felt that way in a long time. Or, maybe he just couldn't recollect the feeling.

"They said they'd give the human Anna to us. Dean only did it because he was forced to choose between his brother and Anna. Uriel and I went to collect her, and while we were there, a demon named Ruby – she was working with Sam – appeared with Alastair and others. While Uriel and I fought the demons, Anna retrieved her Grace and returned to her angelic form."

Cas turned off the DVD and ejected it. Naomi had left his memories of Sam and Dean in tact; at least, as far as he knew. It was clear, from this one recounting, that the message wasn't about factual history. It was about his relationship with humanity. He needed to remember Dean's reason for handing over Anna. He needed to know that Sam's plan to save her involved a move the angels never saw coming.

He remembered that day. He could smell and see and hear all the events as he described them on the recording, but the angel didn't _feel_ it. He let himself remember Dean kissing Anna goodbye, but as he recalled it, he couldn't dredge up the emotions of the experience.

Naomi must have tampered with his memories of the Winchesters or, at the very least, her work had affected his abilities. Anger welled up in his ears till it roared like boiling water.

Cas pocketed the DVD. He couldn't risk watching more of it now. He needed to ensure his connection to Naomi was severed completely before returning to the Winchesters.

* * *

 _Cas. I don't know if you can hear me, but Sam is sick. I'm barely keeping it together. If our friendship, or profound bond or whatever the hell you called it before, means anything to you, you'll find a way to -_

 _Damn it! I told you I needed you. And I meant it. I need you. I do._

Castiel hated Dean's late-night prayers. When the hunter couldn't sleep, his words became desperate and needy, almost begging.

 _You son of a bitch. How could you just abandon your family?_

Castiel listened. He used the prayers as a tether. Dean swore and yelled and accused, but Cas understood. He _felt_ it. Had Dean really hated Cas, he would never whisper to him in the dark, nor would he curse Cas's name or accuse the angel of abandonment. Dean didn't waste time like that on people he didn't care about.

 _Right now my little brother is trying to pull Bobby out of hell, Cas. Bobby. You remember him don't you? And that bitch Naomi dropped by and had some things to say._

 _That's it? You're gonna just leave it? With nothing? Because according to her, you don't have the same loyalty for me as I do for you. You know what? I'm starting to believe her, you cowardly, junkless sonovabitch!_

Weeks passed, and Cas couldn't handle it anymore. When Naomi prevented him from answering Dean's calls, she removed his will, his choice. But now he could choose to return to the brothers, and he hated himself for staying away. Cas needed to speak to Dean, to answer his questions, to explain himself.

Castiel obtained a plain-page leather-bound book from some generic bookstore. He remembered the first prayers after the crypt. Once he summoned up the memory of Dean's voice, he let himself feel everything.

Then he wrote his reply. Cas usually communicated in Enochian, but he knew Dean loathed translation. So, he scribbled his messages in untidy English.

Dear Dean:

I wish I could return to you and your brother. For your help protecting the Angel Tablet. For your company. I want to help you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. But it's too dangerous. Hell is already rallied against you because of the Trials. You don't need Heaven attacking you for the Tablet.

I hope you understand that I never meant I couldn't trust you. I hate that I lied to you, but Naomi will do anything for the Angel Tablet, including torturing you.

I can't let that happen.

Sincerely,  
Castiel

He wrote on and on, systematically answering each and every prayer, even if only to write a brief apology. It took ten hours to catch up.

* * *

 _Kevin is missing. You remember him? The freaking prophet? Yeah, he's gone! He's run for it. We were supposed to protect him, Cas. Where are you? If you can hear me, what could possibly be more important than this?_

Dear Dean,

I will do everything I can to locate Kevin, but in my current state I am more of a danger to him than Crowley is. I fear the angels will kill him rather than let the Angel Tablet be translated.

I always hear you, Dean. I am always listening. When you wake up from a nightmare and yell for your brother and then for me, I hear it. When you feel misery and withdraw to a shower or a lone car ride, and you think my name, I hear it. I listen. I am always listening. When you yell, when you whisper, when you vomit, when you bleed, when you speak.

I should have told you a thousand times before. I should have made it clear to you. I always hear you.

Yours always,  
Castiel

* * *

"I understand," said Goren. "And I will do my best, but even that will be no guarantee."

Castiel bowed his head in misery. He said, "I came because you are a healer."

"There's no doubt about that," Goren said. "I will heal you as best I can. Your vessel as well. But I don't know the extent of whatever this other angel did to you. So I can only hope to undo what I can see."

"That will be something at least," Castiel said. "I don't have much by way of payment."

Goren replied. "Stephen, you'll owe me a favor. How about that?"

Cas felt badly for using a pseudonym, but caution seemed appropriate.

"This will be unpleasant," Goren said apologetically. "If there is a place you find soothing, I suggest you mentally establish an image of yourself there."

Cas nodded. Goren placed one hand on the angel's head and plunged the second between his collarbones. The pain permeated every element of the angel's being, far beyond his vessel. The pain intensified when Goren pressed his other hand into Castiel's head.

The angel screamed, only to discover that his voice failed him. Something pulled away from his consciousness, like a blanket or cloak, but heavier. Once whatever it was lifted, his awareness opened. The weight of Naomi's work, the chains she wrapped him in, dragged him down and down and down –

"Stephen!" Goren called out.

Castiel came back to consciousness in a state of panic.

"Stephen," Goren repeated. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Do you know my name?"

"Goren."

"Good. I did all I could," Goren said as he helped the angel back to his feet.

"I felt it."

"Like I said, there are no guarantees," Goren said.

"I understand."

"But, in the interest of that favor you owe me, I can give you the next best thing."

"What?" Cas asked more out of confusion than curiosity.

Goren gave the angel a large receptacle of Holy Oil. "Insurance."

"Thank you, Goren," Cas said. "Goodbye."


	2. Deep in the Hole and Violin Bow

**Chapter Two**  
 **Deep in the Hole with Violin Bow**

 _Castiel. It's Kevin Tran. I'm not sure what I'm doing. I don't know any other angels. I can't go to the Winchesters. They don't believe me, but I swear. Crowley is in my head. Sam and Dean need to survive so they can shut the gates on him forever._

 _Castiel. It's Kevin Tran. I'm scared. I'm in hiding. I'm worried about my mom. I don't know what to do, but Crowley has his hooks in my head. Castiel, help me. Help me. Help me._

 _Castiel. Hi. It's me. Kevin Tran. The prophet. I don't know any other angels. And I'm terrified. I need help. Someone, anyone? Please. I'm begging. I'm shaking and begging here. Help me, please. Please!_

Kevin's prayers were more traditional than Dean's, but Cas experienced the boy's distress, his madness. Something had taken hold of him. Perhaps an illness or fairy magic. Whatever it was, it wasn't demonic in nature.

Gorden's remedy had side effects, not the least of which was the tendency towards rage and wrath. Cas rarely encountered such anger and containing it became more difficult with every passing day. The arrogance of anyone who dared harm the prophet, the torture Naomi wrought on him and so many other angels - all of it rallied Castiel's fury.

Cas exited a bus in downtown Chicago. He shook off the demons and angels an hour ago, but both groups were closing in. It was just a matter of time before they discovered him again, and he needed to set things in motion before that happened.

 _Cas! Help me! NO! They've got me! Castiel!_

Castiel forced himself to listen to Kevin's frantic cries. It helped him focus on his mission and spurred him forward. He retrieved what he'd come for and immediately teleported to his safe house in Missouri.

Instantaneously, his act sparked interest. Demons and angels zeroed in on him. In his safe house, they couldn't pinpoint him, but they discovered his approximate location. He had no more time.

 _Castiel. It's Kevin Tran. If you can hear me, please make sure my mom is okay. I need to know she's okay. I didn't make it to her. Protect her, please. Please._

Kevin's pleads overlapped with Dean's latest prayer, which made Cas wish he had time to stop and write.

 _Cas, you bastard. Benny's dead. He died helping Sam outa Purgatory with Bobby's soul. That bitch Naomi helped us. She helped us! I don't trust her, but it's hard to hate her when I don't know what the hell is going on! I don't know what she's done to you, if she ever did anything to you at all, Cas. Cas! But Kevin is missing. Gone. No one has seen him. And what can I do? Sam's coughing up blood, sick with God knows what, and you left us. You left me._

Demons were just outside the door. Normally he'd smite them, but angels would read that from across the galaxy, and he couldn't risk that kind of exposure.

He teleported to Hong Kong.

* * *

 **Saint Petersburg, Russia**  
 _I can't. I can't read this tablet, Castiel. Crowley's gonna turn me inside out. I can't read it. I can't see the words anymore. My eyes. They don't work -_

 **Namibe, Angola**  
 _Sam can barely stand. He can't shoot. Kevin's missing, so we don't know what the next trial is. My little brother is falling apart, Cas. I can't do this._

 **Nanchang, China**  
 _You sonofabitch. We need you. Part of me hopes you're dead._

 **Bordeaux, France**  
 _His fever is a hundred and seven, and all I can do is put him in a tub of ice. Coughing blood. And now he's acting like he's nine. Garth is missing. We could use some healing here, Cas, or at least some fucking company. If Naomi is right, if this is all about the stupid Tablet, then just – forget it. Don't even bother. You ditch on us for that, then you're not family anymore._

 **Adrar, Algeria**  
The silence from Kevin bothered Cas. If Crowley captured him, he could be incapacitated or worse. But Cas focused on the prophet anyway, he might be able to find him, but -

Two of Crowley's best demons attacked, slashing and hacking with angel blades. Cas parried and twisted, disarming one of them and acquiring a second angel blade for himself. He brought them both down and cut the first assailant in half.

The remaining demon, Kull, didn't take any chances.

"I'll be back with friends!" Kull growled before he disappeared.

Castiel followed suit, teleporting back to Adrar before his next destination.

 **London, UK**  
 _You've done nothing but leave me, Cas. You left me to go after Purgatory with Crowley. Then you left with amnesia or whatever it was. Then you went insane. Then you abandoned me in Purgatory. Maybe you always had your reasons. Stopping Raphael. Evading the Leviathan. Protecting me. Naomi's crap. You know, I was willing to let that shit go, I was just gonna be okay with that last beat-down you gave me because the mind-control thing._

 _But now, I don't care. All you've done the past two years is betray me, lie to me, and leave me. So just take your reasons and shove them up your lilywhite ass. You haven't called me back, or visited me, so I guess I've got my fucking answer. You don't care about me, and you don't care about Sam, and you sure as hell don't need either of us. So do us both a favor, don't come back._

* * *

 **San Francisco, California**  
 _Castiel. I'm okay. I'm pretty sure Crowley's got me in a mind fuck trap, but I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay._

Kevin's prayers slowly devolved into little more than Castiel's name and a single, repeated word.

Dean stopped praying. He no longer reached out to Castiel after waking from a nightmare, and he no longer desired to meet his old friend on the road. He didn't even think the angel's name. It was a new level of suffering for Cas, far worse than the painful insanity, death by explosion, and torture Naomi had put him through.

* * *

 **Boring, Oklahoma**  
Castiel collapsed. The idea that Dean meant what he had said, that Cas shouldn't bother returning to the Winchesters, tormented him. It weighed him down like plutonium. The angel had set all this in motion solely for the opportunity to return to the brothers without drawing the wrath of Naomi –

A blade pressed against his neck. Castiel's eyes met those of Asa, another angel. Two more joined him. Cas recognized them as Sapphire and Amber.

"Brother," all three said in unison.

* * *

It took all three of them to subdue Castiel, who had two angel blades and far more experience as a soldier. In the end, they strapped him into a wooden chair with Enochian etchings designed to bind his powers.

Sapphire disappeared when Naomi arrived.

"Castiel. It seems as if we finally caught up with you," she said. "I see you lifted the veil I set over you. From what I can see, though, it's done you more harm than good."

Cas responded with a look of confusion.

"You're drained," she explained. "Your feelings got the better of you. Had you kept the veil over your eyes, we'd still be chasing you."

"Better to be free of your poison," Cas retorted.

"Where is the Angel Tablet?"

"Safe," Castiel replied. "No angel should possess it."

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"I need to protect it."

"You're confused," Naomi said. "You were insane before you were banished to Purgatory for over a year. No one can blame you for being paranoid. Castiel, the only way to protect the Angel Tablet is to give it to me."

Cas looked at Asa and Amber. Both showed signs of Naomi's mutilation.

"I can't give the Tablet to you," Cas said to Naomi. "And if Asa or Amber took it, they'd be free of your control. Both of us know you won't have that, Naomi."

"That's not true. You're confused."

"Very well. I will tell Asa where to get it. It will only be freed by an angel's uncovered hand; otherwise, it won't budge from its hidden place."

Naomi's wings appeared suddenly. She immediately shut herself down, forcing herself to maintain control.

"That's what I thought," Cas stated simply.

"Tell me where the Tablet is," Naomi said. "Or I will make you tell me."

"We both know that you can make me do many things," he said. "But you could not make me kill Dean Winchester, and you will not make me disclose the Tablet's location."

She whispered to him. "You don't remember much of what I have done to you. I assure you, that is about to change."

Naomi presented a sliver of wire before she ran it over Castiel's ear. It plunged in, sending electric shocks throughout his body. He screamed as the pain continued. The wire jolted his brain and burned the flesh of his vessel.

Memories bubbled up. In each one, Naomi had him secured to a chair in a pristine room. She could've tortured him there for two minutes or all eternity. He couldn't tell.

Castiel recalled that he had stared down Lucifer and died for his trouble. Likewise with Raphael. Yet, never before had his body been so rigid, his pain and panic been so debilitating, as it was in Naomi's chair. He never encountered terror like that, not even waist-deep in the pit rescuing Dean –

He clung to that memory: Castiel gripped Dean tightly and retreated from Hell with no fear of the demons attempting to stop him. He had found Dean Winchester, and in that moment, the angel discovered his own salvation. Naomi couldn't take that away.

It stopped. Naomi removed the wire.

"We're just getting started, so let's try this again: Where. Is. The. Angel. Tablet?"

"Go to hell!"

Yelling one of the Winchester mottos at Naomi gave him courage and something to hold on to when the next wave of pain hit him.

* * *

Asa whipped him, leaving his vessel torn and disjointed from his true self. Pain ratcheted up toward the level of death -

"Stop," Naomi ordered. "Keep him alive."

Asa stepped away.

"Tell me where the Tablet is, Castiel."

"The tablets were not meant for the angels - " Cas began.

Naomi interrupted, "If you don't tell me, do you know what will happen?"

He said nothing.

"I won't kill you," she said quietly. "I will keep you in a chair just like this one. Then I will bring Dean Winchester here, and you will watch I slowly carry out the order you disobeyed."

In spite of the pain, Cas laughed. "You? Kill Dean Winchester?"

She slashed down his face with her angel blade. It clipped one of his eyes and disoriented him.

Cas continued anyway. "Dean killed Zachariah. He openly defied and faced Gabriel, Michael, Lucifer, and Raphael. You believe you will succeed where four archangels have failed?"

Another slash.

"It's true. Others far more powerful than me have made mistakes, but don't forget, I don't care about the Winchester vessel. Dean no longer possesses a higher purpose. If I need to slaughter him in front of you for the safety of Heaven, I will."

"He'll kill you first," Cas replied with a smile. "Even you can't be prideful or stupid enough to think otherwise."

Slash! This time she took off one of his ears.

"Now, now," a soft voice crooned. "You two should learn to play nice."

Naomi saw Crowley and his posse of demons, all armed with angel blades. Asa and Amber readied for a fight, and Naomi charged herself to go nuclear.

Pop! Crowley disappeared, and Naomi showed her true countenance, destroying a half-dozen demons. Pop! Crowley re-appeared and impaled Asa, throwing the angel to the ground dead. A dozen more demons appeared, readied with angel blades.

Outnumbered, Naomi nodded to Amber, and they both disappeared. Neither made any attempt to haul Castiel away with them. He laughed bitterly.

"What's so funny?" Crowley asked.

"I'm glad to see you."

"Is that right, love? That's touching."

The angel couldn't help himself. He was aware that Crowley would do far worse than Noami, but he was actually happy to see Crowley, happy he drove Naomi's forces off. That thought was so funny to him that even the blood bubbling up through his mouth didn't stop him.

"You offer yer rocker again? Because that'll make far this less fun, Cassie. Less fun but still doable."

Crowley jabbed precisely into Castiel's abdomen below the chest.

"Practiced a bit on a few of your brethren," he explained. "We don't want you dying just yet, now do we?"


	3. Deep in the Hole and Sinking Down

**Chapter Three**  
 **Deep in the Hole and Sinking Down  
**

"What do you mean, side effects?" Crowley demanded.

Lachesis replied, "It took a lot of weaving to get him to leave his hiding place. More than it should of. It might be a few days before his system is clear and he can think straight again."

"You're telling me he'll be useless for days?"

"Useless but in your hands," she reassured him. "When he's we'll again, he'll be pliable. I have a number of - "

"I need him to read the Tablets!" Crowley bellowed. "He's near stark-raving mad right now and can barely read a billboard!"

"That will pass," Lachesis explained.

"When you said you'd get me the Prophet, I was operating under the assumption that he'd be functional!"

"It's temporary," she raised her voice. "He will read the Tablet again."

"If this doesn't pan out, love, I'm taking it out of your hide, you understand?"

"I am not concerned."

Crowley had worked with plenty of maddening people before, but working with one of the Fates topped all others. It was her certainty in the face of all opposition and possible complications that killed him.

"If you can't un-crazy my Prophet, then I have another assignment for you."

"Oh?"

"I have someone whose head I'd like you to peek into. What do you say?"

Kevin Tran had never done drugs. The strongest pain medicine he'd ever taken was ibuprofen, and the only stimulant he had ever used was caffeine. Still, he knew something alien pumped through his system: the hallucinations, the dreams, the sensation of his own body.

Several months ago he had developed a calm, soothing view of life. Maybe he would be slowly tortured to death, but Crowley could never have his soul. He didn't understand how or why having a parking spot reserved upstairs comforted him. Maybe it was a Prophet thing.

This drug, whatever it was, made him jittery, on edge, and elated all at the same time. His Zen attitude towards death didn't make the journey any smoother; after all, as soon as his body came down from whatever this was, Crowley would try to force him to read the Tablet. So Kevin Tran indulged in it. When it surged, he rode the wave, not just rolling with the punches, but cresting the surf, never letting himself fall.

The result was a bafflingly hysterical version of the Advanced Placement student. He listed facts about chemicals, historical battles, equations, and lines from Shakespeare. He acted like he spoke to imaginary friends and figments of his imagination.

* * *

Lachesis enjoyed breaking into people's heads. It's what she did best. Crowley led her to a tiny torture chamber where a beaten and bloody angel waited, slowly dying.

"He knows where the other tablet is, and I might've, uh, inflicted slightly more damage than I intended. Well, technically Naomi, darling that she is, did most of it. The tot beat me to it."

Lachesis sized the angel up and asked, "The goal?"

"It's high time I eliminate this angel once and for all, but he is the only one who knows where this other tablet is. Your job is to pinpoint its location for me before this one snuffs it."

She replied, "I'll need just a few minutes."

She examined Castiel's face and lingered over his remaining ear. She remarked, "Someone else has been tapping into his memories."

Crowley nodded smugly. "That'd be Naomi. She always was a crafty little minx, but from what I hear, she's got nothing on you." The King leaned in to whisper to her, "He's been quite a crafty little angel in the past, so do me a favor and be absolutely certain."

"You don't - have to, do this. You shouldn't," Cas sputtered at Lachesis.

"You and your motley crew got rid of the meaning of 'have to,' Castiel. I don't have to break open your skull to find what the King here asked for, but I want to. After all, the King of Hell gave me a job after some dicks voided my previous occupation," Lachesis replied. "You should've know better than to piss off the Fates, angel."

"Not me, I mean you - "

She didn't wait for him to say anything else. She took his brutalized head in her hands and buried her feelers, for lack of a better word, into his mind.

Lachesis shivered. Most living creatures had minds like shelters, the climate temperate to the individual's preferences, but this angel's mind was like a cavernous hole, deep and treacherous and freezing. It was a place one retreated when, and only when, all other security had been violated. Castiel's mind was nothing but broken prayers and the sounds of Naomi's tools drilling. She infiltrated his barriers, tortured his mind until -

She laughed. She yanked away from him, tearing his already vulnerable spirit and flesh.

"He's clever," she said. "He broke it into four pieces."

"Did he now," Crowley said. "And these - "

"All concealed within his vessel. I hope you don't mind, but I only agreed to find them. Perhaps someone better tuned to flesh will do the, uh, retrieval?"

Lachesis marked Castiel's shoulder blades and upper thighs. "This circle is approximate."

"Oh, it'll do nicely love."

Castiel wasn't aware of this conversation. Lachesis's little mind game was like fangs to the brain. His hearing and sight were both compromised.

 _Castiel. Hi. It's Kevin Tran. I'm being held in an old library. They think I'm crazy. I am crazy, but not as crazy as they think I am. I don't think I'll have any luck making it out of here -_

Normally Castiel heard prayers no matter what, but the sound blurred as Crowley dug instruments into his shoulders. The demon took his time with it, and he used dull instruments not suited to the task at hand. Cas remembered that Crowley never had an opportunity to exact revenge on the angel for his prior betrayal.

Luckily, the King of Hell was impatient, so he made short work of the angel's legs. He held up the quartered Tablet in triumph.

"Now for a word with your little prophet," Crowley said happily.

Cas examined his surroundings. Was he in the same building as Kevin? Crowley's easy stroll suggested it. The King was prone to either stealthy or flashy exits, so why was he walking out? Perhaps the Prophet was nearby.

Castiel had been scratching away the sigils on the chair with his fingernails during his captivity. Crowley's interrogation hindered his work for almost an hour, but he finally obliterated the last of the primary sigils. Once eradicated, his Grace woke from its dormant state, and he wasted no time.

Cas yanked at his coat until a bottle of elixir fell out. He splashed its contents over his vessel. It wouldn't heal his true form, but it would keep his vessel in tact so he could move again. The elixir boosted his Grace, putting his energy into overdrive.

Abruptly, his flesh repaired itself as his Grace revved up. He used what little force he could muster to crack and splinter the chair completely.

Then he turned invisible. Without full power, he could never hope to defend himself or Kevin from Crowley. His only chance remained in stealth.

He honed in on Kevin's prayer. The Prophet was nearby.

* * *

Crowley presented the four pieces of the Angel Tablet to Kevin, who held them like prized possessions. First one, then the other, then the last - he reassembled the Tablet. It was whole again.

Kevin delicately placed the Tablet on the only chair in the room and sat on the floor beside it, like a child sitting at the foot of a parent listening to a long story.

After a few moments of stillness and silence, Crowley held out his half of the Demon Tablet to Kevin. The kid began to babble as he reached for it.

The King yanked it out of the Prophet's reach.

"That's mine!" Kevin stammered. "Rarer than diamond! Albino! Mine!"

"I will give this to you on one condition, birdie," Crowley said. "You have to read it to me."

"Like a bed time story?" Kevin said. "I can read the rock."

"Right, then," Crowley handed it over.

The Prophet grabbed a Sharpie from the ground and hurried over to a wall. He looked at the Tablet, then the wall, then he wrote.

"Gotta write the wall for sense, then it's a bedtime story," Kevin said, his body fluttering.

Crowley watched as the once-intelligence teenager scribbled crassly on the wall. Kevin moved and marked the other walls, as if each one were dedicated to a topic on the Tablet. That was, of course, assuming his madness gave him method.

"Demonic influence on the collective tapestry of the soul," he wrote. Crowley remembered that from an earlier session. He could live with the prat madly transcribing the Tablets all over the decor, so long as it got done.

"You two," the King of Hell barked at two guards. "Make sure surveillance is on him at all times. I've got an old partner to torture to death."

Cas watched as Crowley strolled out of a room that was clearly warded against angels. Dimly, Cas knew that Kevin must be nearby, but it was difficult to concentrate. His healing was superficial at best, and he felt himself dying.

'No,' he told himself. 'If this room is warded, it's because Kevin is inside. If I can rescue him, I have to. I can't die. Not yet.'

One of the guards chased after Crowley. "Boss, he's, uh, really messing up the walls - "

Abruptly, light passed into the room, and Castiel spotted Kevin Tran wildly scribbling everywhere.

Crowley turned to the demon, "He's crazy, you fool! Of course he's messing everything up!"

Unknown to the King, Kevin's transcription slowly covered the Enochian sigils warding his dungeon, allowing Castiel to sneak in. Despite his invisibility, Kevin recognized a presence in the room, and his yelp of surprise alerted the remaining guard.

The demon examined the room, but he saw nothing. He stared at Kevin for a few moments. Kevin yelped again and continued to write, and the guard relaxed slightly. Apparently he assumed that crazy Prophets just made odd noises for no reason.

Down the hall, Crowley continued to yell. "He's transcribing Tablets, you idiot! Now go back and make sure that little prat has enough markers! And while you're at it, send someone to get wall paper for him, too!"

There were no windows in the dungeon, and Cas could sense the multiple layers of warding magic that covered the rest of the building. Teleportation was impossible from here.

"But, sir - "

"I'm sorry, was there something about that direct order that confused you?"

"No, sir."

"Then why are you still standing here?"

Crowley left. Cas surged forward and grappled the nearest guard, easily impaling him with an angel blade that the demon had pilfered from one of Castiel's siblings. The other guard raced in, but the angel had no trouble taking him out. Invisibility had its perks in a fight.

Alarms went up.

Castiel hoisted Kevin to his shoulder and ran for it. Their only hope at escape was teleportation. He needed to find somewhere, anywhere, he could tap into all of his power.

Kevin wrapped his arms around the angel's neck, securing himself around his still-invisible rescuer.

Black smoke surrounded them. Hellhounds bayed. Alarms blared over and over. Cas required only a single window, even just a tiny one, but his enemies were closing in. The angel would have to be creative.

Castiel raced recklessly toward the closest exterior wall. At the last second, he leapt and twisted, protecting Kevin's fragile human body from the impact as the angel's back punched straight through the brick and concrete.


	4. Deep in the Hole on the Floor

**Chapter Four**  
 **Deep in the Hole on the Floor**

"Well?" Dean asked Sam as he returned to the diner. "What did, whatever-her-name-is-"

"Detective Glass," Sam corrected.

"What did she want?"

"Apparently her sister was dying of cancer until she had a miraculous recovery two days ago, which was around the time our partner from the Weird Cartoon Case asked her to give us this."

Sam held out what looked like an old book and a DVD.

"Seriously? We drove out here for this?" Dean inquired.

Dean left money for the check and dragged his brother toward the Impala.

"Dean, what're you - "

"Detective Glass isn't an idiot, Sam. Maybe the miracle healing thing made her think twice, but she's gotta know something's up with us."

"We did blow town after that last case," Sam acknowledged.

"Right. So let's get the hell outta here."

Sam sat in the passenger seat. He asked, "You think she's setting us up?"

"I don't know, and I'm not waiting around to find out."

"Don't you even wanna know what Cas left for us?"

"No."

When Dean got onto the highway, he said, "Keep your eyes peeled and an ear to the scanner."

"Right."

Sam flipped through the book. As soon as he realized what it was, he shut it.

"Angel porn?" Dean quipped.

"It's for you," Sam replied.

"Screw him."

"Dean, you've been reaching out to him for weeks, and now he's finally answered, and you don't even wanna know?"

"Getting our asses pulled into the fire and possibly caught is not an answer. Him leaving his diary, or whatever it is, and some DVD isn't him giving me any fucking answers, Sam."

Sam flipped through the pages, glancing for keywords. He found a promising passage to read out loud.

"Dear Dean: I miss you and your brother. There is nothing more I want to do than join you at this bunker you keep telling me about - "

"Then where the hell is he?" Dean barked.

Sam continued, "But I have been compromised by Naomi's meddling. She has taken my memories from me and at one point even my will. How can I return to you when I do not know if I can control myself?"

The entry went on, but Sam skipped ahead to the last page with writing, wondering if Cas left an explanation for sending them the journal now.

"Dear Dean, I am afraid I have failed in every way. Crowley and Naomi are closing in on me, and if I come to you I know I will put you and Sam in the line of fire, which is the last thing you need right now with Sam's illness. I hope you did not mean what you said - that you didn't want me to see you again - because right now that's the only thing I have to inspire me, seeing you both again. But if that's what you want, I will oblige. The silence from you is more painful than anything I remember Naomi doing to me. Given my current situation, I doubt I'll live long enough to lament the loss of our bond - "

"Lament?" Dean interrupted. "He wrote that?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, shut up and listen to the rest. Okay, where was I? Right. ...to lament the loss of our bond properly. If this is the case, please know that I trust you and your brother above anyone I have ever met in all the universe. Even in my deepest state of confusion, when I was plunged into the depths of Naomi's control, I trusted you more than I trusted myself. I am leaving a DVD I made for myself in your care. I think you and Sam would be the only ones to appreciate it in the event of my death. Sincerely yours forever, Castiel."

Thankfully, Sam put on some music and shut his trap for the rest of the ride back to the bunker. Dean imagined himself grabbing Cas by the collar and demanding his cooperation, making him hide at the bunker with the stupid tablet. That's what he should've done back at the crypt. Friends don't let friends take on Heaven and Hell over a slab of rock.

With Garth missing, Dean didn't even know where to start on finding Kevin. From what Sam just read, Dean had to accept the probability that the angel was already dead. Why else would he arrange a special delivery for the Winchesters?

"I can feel you thinking," Sam said, blood dripping from his nose.

"Use a tissue," Dean said. "No blood on the upholstery!"

As Sam stopped up his nose, Dean continued, "What do you mean, you feel my thoughts? Is that part of the trial crap?"

"No, idiot, it's a brother thing," Sam retorted. His voice was overly nasal due to the tissue up his nose. "It's all over your face."

"What is?"

"You're worried about Cas."

"Sam, don't do this - "

"You gotta believe he's still out there, okay? Like Kevin and Garth. Sometimes people fall off the map without being six feet under."

"Not our friends."

"He wanted to make sure we had this, so I say, movie night," Sam said waving the DVD.

Dean didn't want to know what was on it. He didn't want to think about Cas at all. Putting the angel out of his head for the past week was his only way through all this crap. Seeing Charlie raised his spirits, but watching Sam deteriorate gradually under the weight of the Trials tore at him beyond what even Alastair had achieved in the pit.

Sam checked his watch. They were forty minutes out from the bunker, and he was impatient both to figure out the Third Trial and to watch the contents of the DVD.

Dean gassed up in Osborne.

"Anything on the police scanner?" he asked his brother.

"No. They'd've been on us before we crossed state lines."

"Maybe we should, you know, shake'em off a little more, just in case."

"Come on, Dean," Sam pleaded. "We're almost there. Let's just get home."

They had been on 181 for only a few minutes when Sam's phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi. Sam? This is Sam? Sam, this is Kevin. You know, Kevin Tran. Hi."

"Kevin, where the hell are you?"

"Actually I called because you just passed us by. Stealthy, I guess."

"What?"

"We're on the north bound side of 181. Just saw you guys. Well, not you, but the Impala. Not so much saw as heard. Didn't actually see the license plate - "

"Hold on," Sam said into the phone. He turned to Dean, "Turn around, we need to head back toward the gas station. Kevin's on the north bound side, we just passed him - "

Dean didn't think; he just acted, following Sam's instructions.

"Kevin, we're coming," Sam said. "What's going on?"

"I, uh, don't know, outta juice, hurry up - tablet, you know? Mine. And that's me."

Kevin sounded strung out, but he continued speaking. Sam didn't understand most of what he said. He spoke too fast and started leaving out key words from his sentences.

Dean rolled up on the shoulder. Both brothers popped out of the vehicle and saw Kevin kneeling over someone else. Sam hung up.

"Is that Garth?" Dean asked Sam.

"I dunno, I guess," Sam replied.

Kevin yelled, "He warned me. Said they'd follow!"

"Cas?" Dean said.

"Not so good, right?" Kevin said. "Mostly the brick wall. And probably the torture. Maybe drugs. Wasn't there myself."

"We'll talk about it anywhere but here," Dean said, hauling Cas up. He had to hoist the angel up and over both shoulders because Cas couldn't get to his feet.

"You able to drive?" he asked Sam.

"Yeah, definitely."

"You get shotgun kid," Dean said to Kevin.

Once in the car, Dean took a rag and tied it around Kevin's face.

"Can't see, why - "

Dean interrupted Kevin, "That whole Crowley-in-your-head thing. I'm guessing you won't flee in a panic if you don't know where you are. Even if he is in your head, you won't be able to tell him."

Kevin stopped tugging at the blindfold. "Right. Crowley-be-gone. Not really. Not entirely. Close enough. Right?"

"Don't mention it," Dean replied.

Sam asked, "How's Cas?"

"My vessel is better off than I am," Cas muttered. "Healing was superficial. Too weak to adequately heal myself."

"You gonna make it another, I dunno, hour?" Dean asked.

"Assuming no additional attempts on my life, I'll heal."

Dean slipped the correspondence book into Cas's hands along with the DVD.

"You don't like them?" Cas asked.

"You'll be able to tell me yourself," Dean replied. "Assuming you'll stick around once you're healed."

"I'd like that," Cas whispered.

"Right," Dean said, the edge of disbelief in his voice. "Just hang in there."

Sam saw Kevin's tremors from the corner of his eye.

"Kevin? How're you holding up?" Sam asked.

"Did something to me, made me crazy paranoid, and then just crazy - shaking. Shakes. I am shaking?"

"Lachesis," Cas spoke up from the back seat.

"Lack-what?" Sam asked.

"One of the Fates, you met her sister," the angel replied.

"I remember that bitch, she tried to explode us with fire," Dean said. He spoke to Kevin, "You survived a Fate? Impressive."

"My tablet. Right? Mine. Tablet gotta read, gotta keep it," Kevin said. He pressed himself back into the car seat.

"Will he be okay?" Dean asked Cas.

"Lachesis drugged him," Cas said weakly. "He might have withdrawal. There's uh - "

Blood bubbled out of the angel's mouth.

"This is not good," Dean said.

"No, it's - my injury upon our escape - " Cas gurled.

"Can't you tap the power of my soul, heal yourself?" Dean asked.

"There's no need," Cas said. "I'll be fine."

Dean and Sam frog-marched a blindfolded Kevin into the bunker. Dean returned to the car, pulled Castiel to his feet, and helped him trundle to the door.

"We're going to set you up in a room," Dean said. "And you'll be better in no time."

"Dean," the angel said as they closed the bunker door and locked it. "I want you to read this." He handed off the correspondence book

"You're not staying?" Dean asked.

"I'm weak and need rest. This has things I want you to know now," he said. "Please. I wrote it in English for you."

Dean took it to appease the angel. "No promises on how far I'll get."

Sam un-blindfolded Kevin.

"Woah," Kevin remarked.

"Yeah, we'll set you up in a room," Sam said.

"Sammy, I can do that," Dean offered.

"You've got Cas."

"I can do both, you should - "

"Shut up, I'm setting Kevin up."

"Is this place, like, you know, protected?" Kevin asked. "Safe. No telepath-Crowley kind of thing?"

"This place is protected from everything," Dean said as he led Cas away. They disappeared, leaving Sam and Kevin in the war room.

"Great, my tablet," Kevin said as he took a seat.

"You should rest," Sam said. "You look worse than me, which is saying something."

"No, I can't, I can't. Need to do this now. Now that I have the other half. It can be whole now."

Kevin pulled out Crowley's half of the Demon Tablet.

"Is that - "

"With my notes I'll have all of it. All of it!" Kevin's excitement peaked.

"Your notes?"

Kevin pointed to his head. "Advanced Placement."

Sam's laughter boomed throughout the bunker. "You are the best prophet of all time."

"You're just saying that because you're hopped up on the trials," Kevin said, "and you'll be strung out till you finish them."

"Hopped up? You were doped by Fate!"

"Don't tell my mom. Say no to drugs, even doping."

"Deal."

* * *

Dean snagged sheets from the Linen Closet and walked Castiel to the room next to his.

"We share a wall, so all you need to do is knock, and I'll be there, okay?"

Cas sounded stronger already. He said, "I don't think I'll need much assistance. My Grace will heal me, given a day or two of rest and safety."

"What the hell happened?" he asked.

The angel's face broke into a smile. "When Mothra and Godzilla are on your ass, you need to get out of the way and let them fight."

Dean pushed Cas into the lone chair in the room. He began to make the bed.

"Where did you hear that? Wait," Dean took a moment to think. "That was a while ago, back with Ruby and Anna."

"You and Sam taught me that."

Dean cast a sideways glance at Castiel. "What happened?"

Dean's eyes locked into Castiel's.

"You're not going to tell me?" Dean asked. He grabbed Cas by the lapels of his trench coat and pulled him close. "I thought you said you trusted me."

Without blinking, Cas replied, "You have my solemn vow, Dean Winchester, I will tell you everything."

Dean released his grip on the angel and guided him into the now-made bed.

"Go ahead."

"I had the Angel Tablet," said Cas, "which I believe prevented Naomi from forcing me to obey. I sought a healer to ensure the connection was broken, and by then, people started to catch up with me."

"You should've come to us," Dean interrupted.

"I planned to, but then Kevin started to pray to me. He was in trouble, and - "

"Why didn't you come to us?"

"I couldn't."

"Really? You couldn't? Or you wouldn't?"

"Couldn't."

"So you went after Kevin. Alone. Where's the Angel Tablet?"

"Crowley - "

"Crowley? Crowley has the Angel Tablet?" Dean interrupted.

"I'm sorry Dean."

"You always are," Dean snapped. He saw Castiel's expression drop, and he looked so much more ill and smaller like that. "You should rest."

"Dean - "

He left Cas in the room and shut the door behind him.


	5. Deep in the Hole in Hell & Misery

**Chapter Five**  
 **Deep in the Hole in Hell & Misery**

Dean rummaged through the book Cas gave him. His eyes scanned the pages, but he didn't read much. He hated everything he did manage to read. Every four words, the angel apologized. He apologized for not knowing what to do, for making a snap decision in the crypt and bolting. He apologized for Naomi's mind control. He apologized for the Angel Tablet's effects on him.

His heart stopped on one entry.

Dear Dean:

I can't remember the last time I made a choice without some force clouding my ability. Back in Purgatory, when I stayed behind? Or maybe right when I got out of Purgatory, when I first tried to appear to you to tell you I was back. After that, Naomi had her hooks in me, and now that's gone, I feel –

I feel, Dean. I don't know how I managed to function before without my emotions. She tried to take those away from me. She tried to destroy what I am, who I am so I would obey blindly. I have never known hatred like this, anger like this. I must curb it now, because your life depends on it, so does your brother's.

But I feel again, Dean. Like I did in Purgatory. And I wish you knew, that you understood, this was taken from me by force. By conditioning. When you looked up at me and reminded me who I was, who you were to me, you broke through. You severed the callous mechanisms she stitched into me. But the damage was too much to heal all at once.

I despise the idea that I will die without you knowing any of this.

Sincerely yours,  
Castiel

Dean's hands were shaking. If he saw Naomi again, he'd gank her.

He'd spent so long being angry at Cas, and it had never occurred to him that the angel needed more help breaking away from Naomi. If their roles were reversed, Dean couldn't say he'd've done much differently.

'No,' he thought to himself, 'I wouldn't leave people out in the cold like that.'

He couldn't just forget it because this wasn't the first time Cas had made this mistake. The circumstances were different, but the choice remained the same. And Cas's choice never seemed to be to trust Dean or Sam.

* * *

Kevin wrote incessantly.

"You okay here, kid?"

"What? Yeah."

"I'm gonna put these on," Sam held out his headphones. "You'll have to poke me if you need me."

"I'll manage."

Sam put in Castiel's DVD. He watched as Castiel fondly recounted his history with the Winchesters. Sometimes he didn't appreciate the commentary, such as 'And Sam was really annoying when he left me this message about some stuff. But maybe that's because I was really drunk at the time and everything annoyed me.'

He had to pause it after the first hour. Part of him was near tears. How the hell did Castiel make memories of the Apocalypse so fucking moving?

Kevin continued to write, so Sam felt obliged to keep awake. He hadn't been sleeping anyway, so he might as well ensure the Prophet didn't have a stroke in the process.

"Water?" he asked Kevin.

"Yeah, great, thanks."

"Have you eaten?"

"I can't remember."

"I'll get you a snack then."

* * *

Crowley paced the length of his office. Losing Castiel, that was fine, but he needed Kevin Tran.

"Mr. Crowley," Kull said tentatively.

"Good news, Kull, or I'll have your spleen for my Christmas Tree."

"We have word the angels cannot find Kevin Tran or Castiel, so they've started Plan B."

"Plan B?" Crowley asked. "They have a Plan B?"

"Apparently our, uh, capture of the Prophet drew out another player," Kull said.

"You have a counter initiative?" Crowley asked.

"I think you'll see that your winning streak isn't broken, just took a sharp left turn," Kull replied. "All I need are a few hands on deck. Smart enough to be discreet and quick."

"How close are you?"

"Narrowing down locations," Kull said. "Trust me, you'll be pleased."

"Take what you need," Crowley said. "I've got a date with the Winchesters. It's about time those nightmares learned who the King of Hell really is."

Kull bowed out and disappeared.

He lost the prophet, but he wasn't worried. Kevin managed to squiggle most of his half the tablet on the walls before Castiel sprung him. And he still had the Angel Tablet.

The Winchesters were doing the trials. Lachesis had pulled enough out of Kevin's head for him to know that. That's why his hellhound had been killed.

The trouble was that Crowley didn't have a damn checklist. Maybe they saved Bobby's soul from Hell, but a motley crew had assisted them. Ajay, Naomi, that vampire his contact told him about. The trials were a solo mission, so did that count? Was that even the second trial? Or had the Winchesters been successfully distracted by Bobby's predicament?

For the sake of simplicity, Crowley pulled out a devilishly stylish piece of stationary. He wrote the following: Identify the second trial. Identify the third trial. Destroy the Winchesters. Kill Castiel. Maim Naomi. Maim Kevin Tran. Kull's task.

He didn't have to do it in order, of course, but it would be so nice to tick of a task here and there.

* * *

Dean walked into the angel's room with a musty old book. Castiel peered up from the bed. He seemed even more beaten and tired than before.

"Dean?"

"I, uh, read some of your letters and decided you need sleep."

"Angels don't sleep."

"That's why I brought this."

The book Dean carried held a sort of healing ritual for angels.

"That would expedite my recovery, but you don't need to – " Cas began.

"You won't use my soul to heal yourself," Dean cut him off. "And you won't let me use any of the crap we have here to heal you, either. But this? You're doing this, okay?"

Castiel actually cowered under Dean's anger. He nodded.

"What's with you?" Dean said.

"I feel how angry you are with me still," Cas replied. "I've already burdened you with my – "

"Shut up!" Dean yelled. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Cas didn't respond right away. He knew how angry Dean was with him; he could feel it. The angel understood that there was more to this conversation, something he was missing. But he didn't have the strength for it.

"A lot," he answered. "You're right, I should – sleep."

* * *

Dean was in bed, watching the shadow of the rain as it trickled down the windows. He was alone.

Then he wasn't. Castiel was there. Maybe he'd been there the whole time. Dean wasn't sure.

Not a single word passed between them. The angel climbed into bed, covering Dean's body with his own. Neither of them had anything more than pajama bottoms on. When did that happen? Or were they already like that, and Dean hadn't noticed?

A kiss. Suddenly the details didn't matter. Castiel smoothed his hands over Dean's body, and without thinking, Dean maneuvered his palms down Cas's back. The sensation sent vibrations up his spine. Teeth and tongue and fingers.

Everything was going by too fast. He didn't want it to be over yet. Intimacy was too rare for him, and he wanted to drink this in. To drink Castiel in. Dean nibble on Castiel's neck above the collarbone. Cas found a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, taking pleasure in leaving a shiny hickey. Dean returned the favor.

It was as if they did this every night, like they'd been doing this for years.

All of a sudden, everything happened at once. Dean's brain couldn't keep up, and he didn't care. The last thing he remembered was staring into Castiel's deep, too-blue eyes.

* * *

Dean snapped awake and turned to Castiel -

Who wasn't there. Dean moved his hand to his neck. There wasn't a hickey there, which meant it had all been a dream.

A good dream, but a dream nonetheless.

'Damnit,' Dean thought to himself. He promised himself he wouldn't let Cas off the hook until they talked.

Dean needed Cas to tell him he understood that friends don't let friends think they've abandoned them. Instead he's dreaming about Cas like he used to right after the angel returned from Purgatory.

Maybe that wasn't a bad thing. He'd have to figure it out in the morning.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : This chapter marks the end of the first episode adapted, originally called 08x21 Deep in the Hole. The other episodes being adapted for this story are all from my series Trials of Hell and Heart (Season 8 Fan Fiction/S8FF), which was originally written for Dean/Cas Big Bang 2013. After those episodes have been converted, I will being to adapt the episodes of Another Chance at the Brass Ring (Season 9 Fan Fiction/S9FF).

Note that while I am following my original story as closely as possible, some modifications to events and the overall plot will undoubtedly appear (as well as scenes removed for this adaptation due to adult content). I hope you've enjoyed the story so far and will check back for future updates.

If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to PM me.


	6. Black Hole Sun, Wash Away the Rain

**Chapter Six  
Black Hole Sun, Wash Away the Rain**

Dean heated a large pot of soup. He stood in the kitchen, stirring repeatedly to ensure the soup heated thoroughly without burning it. This, as it transpired, was a major benefit of his current activity.

After all, it kept him away from Sam's barking cough, Kevin's inane ramblings, and Castiel's sleep-trance mutterings. The bunker was full of people, yet Dean remained the only person capable of stringing a sentence together while walking in a straight line.

He loaded up four soup bowls, even though the angel didn't eat. Knowing he wouldn't get Kevin out of the war room, he grabbed a bowl and spoon on his way out of the kitchen.

"Yo, Kevin," he said. "Got some grub."

"I'm not hungry."

"Kev, you need to eat," Dean said. "Seriously, if I come back and you haven't eaten, I'm taking away all your pens."

Kevin glared at Dean. Perhaps he decided to believe the threat, because he took the spoon and ate.

"Sam - "

"I'm not hungry," Sam cut him off.

"Can I talk to you in the kitchen?"

Sam followed his brother and rolled his eyes at the soup.

"Humor me," Dean said.

"I'm not - "

"Sam!"

"Fine, but if I barf this up, it's on you."

"You find anything?" Dean said, ignoring his brother's comment.

"About Fate doping people? No."

"Cas seemed pretty sure," Dean insisted. "What did this hag do before?"

"She dealt with thread, Dean, not drugs. Trust me, I looked," Sam replied, forcing himself to eat. "Look, I wanna help him, too. Maybe you should wake Cas up - "

"No."

"He's the one floating the theory," Sam pushed. "He's the one with the answers here."

"He needs to rest up."

"He can rest up without being completely immobile and unconscious," Sam said. "What's going on?"

"He shoulda come to us, Sammy," Dean started, keeping his voice low. "And not just about this crap. Back when Raphael wanted to re-start the Apocalypse, he shoulda come to us but he didn't. No, he teamed up with Crowley. And after all that, with the Leviathan and the declaring himself God's replacement... it's like the stupid bastard hasn't learned a thing."

"Except that's not what's happening."

Dean stopped eating. "What?"

"After you fell asleep I took Cas's book - "

"You read it?" Dean interrupted, annoyed.

"He left it for both of us."

"Right, except all the letters were to me," Dean said. "Isn't that a federal crime? Opening someone else's mail?"

"From what I read, he wanted to come to us, but he couldn't."

"Same thing."

"No, it's not. It's like, cutting ties with Benny or Amelia, we had to. You know that."

Dean didn't want to talk about Benny. "Let's let Cas sleep a little while longer, okay? I'll help you look through the books for an antidote or whatever for Kevin."

* * *

Crowley leaned back leisurely in his chair. The Winchesters had one very annoying feature. Well, several annoying features, but one that actually concerned him as King. And that was their ability to do something wildly unpredictable. Crowley was no fool; he knew that Timon and Pumba often came to such things in pursuit of a foolhardy errand somehow squaring off well for them. Hell, he'd even allied himself with the Wonder Twins to crush the Apocalypse. This all begged the question: where were they? Shouldn't they be barreling down the doors of hell on their next little suicide mission?

He should've killed them when he had the chance. It would have saved him a fair amount of effort. But, then again, this current scenario had its up side as well. He wanted to watch the brothers as they realize that Crowley had done what Azazel, Lilith, Alastair, Lucifer, Michael, and Dick Roman failed to do: Defeat the Winchesters.

His phone rang.

"This is the King."

"Are you free for a meeting?" Kull asked.

"Yes, of - "

Kull appeared on the arm of Therion. Kull dressed in his usual snappy apparel; Crowley liked to think that he took a leaf out of his book. Therion tended toward stable hand in terms of attire, but for some reason today she wore a respectable woman's suit.

"Hello," Crowley said pleasantly, hanging up his phone. He added, "Therion."

She backed off and waited outside the office door.

"I've good news," Kull said.

"The only kind I like to hear," Crowley mused. "Don't keep me waiting, love."

"Naomi has a crew looking for the same target, but they're not having much luck," Kull said. "They've got rituals, and the like, to help locate people like him."

"That so?"

"But he knows about it, and apparently prepared for such incursion."

"This better get good fast, Kull."

"The location ritual requires only a name," Kull continued. "But he's somehow flooded the system. They're pulling up thousands of locations."

"You said good news, Kull," Crowley reminded.

"They haven't been having any luck. Me on the other hand, well, let's just say, I'll be bringing you a present soon."

"And you dropped by to gloat before hand?" Crowley asked. "That's not like you."

"There're two things I need."

"Ah."

"An angel blade - "

"You need an angel blade?" Crowley asked. "What for?"

Kull smiled but ignored the question. He continued, "And an adequate distraction for the winged idiots upstairs. Just in case."

"Huh," the King of Hell sized Kull up. "What's life without surprises?" He materialized an angel blade, and as he handed it off, he said, "Just make sure it's a surprise I want."

"Don't worry about that sir."

"In," Crowley looked at his ridiculously expensive watch, "say, thirteen hours, the God squad will be quite distracted."

Kull bowed his head and left.

Crowley wasn't sure what Kull really wanted. He wasn't in it for a position of power; revenge might be more his cup of tea. The problem was that Crowley didn't know, and Kull was fast becoming more than just his best hired gun. He took his seat again and made a mental note. After destroying the Winchesters, the King of Hell needed to figure out Kull's end game.

At least he knew how his day would roll out.


	7. Indisposed, In Disguise

**Chapter Seven  
Indisposed, In Disguise  
**

Dean and Sam poured over books, hunter diaries, chronological studies of modern supernatural events, but nothing contained anything about Lachesis's doping materials. Her personal biography named her the appointer of lots in terms of Fate.

Even with his fever spiking, Kevin wouldn't let go of the tablet, which Sam insisted was some kind of robo-prophet behavior that he previously exhibited with the Leviathan Tablet, so Dean let it go. The third trial was on that thing, so if Kevin could sweat his way through the text, then who was Dean to stop him?

Dean began, "Holy crap - "

Dean didn't finish his thought; instead, he caught Kevin before he crashed to the ground.

"Damn it!" Dean cursed.

Sam slipped away as his elder brother fussed over the Prophet. He knocked on the room door, just in case, and when there was no response, he pushed the door open.

Castiel was supine on the bed. He mumbled Enochian in fits and bursts, but otherwise remained perfectly still.

Sam opened the book to the dog-eared page and read out loud. It was a very odd combination of Latin and Enochian, but it did the trick.

"Sam?" Castiel asked weakly.

"Hey, Cas," Sam said. "Sorry to wake you, but we need your help. Kevin's in a bad way."

"Lachesis, she poisoned him."

"Cas, we've looked through everything, everything, and we can't find anything about the kind of drug she uses," Sam pleaded.

The angel looked so weak that Sam empathetically felt tired, but Cas smiled. "There's a reason an entire genus of serpent is named after her."

Sam's eyes went wide with recognition. "She's using some kind of venom?"

"It won't kill him. The withdrawal can be very painful and debilitating," the angel said. "I believe that's why Crowley picked her to do his dirty work."

"What?"

"Angels can't heal some things," said Cas. "Withdrawal from a supernatural drug like hers would be difficult for an angel to heal in the best of circumstances, otherwise I - "

"I know, Cas, you'd've already healed him if you could," Sam said kindly. "So what about an antidote?"

"Not unless you know Asclepius," Cas said. "Or have a bezoar, but that is very unpleasant."

"Asclepius?" Dean asked from the doorway. Sam jolted. He hadn't heard his brother enter.

"Greek deity of healing," Sam replied.

"That's the dude with the serpents and the stick for a symbol?"

"Yes," huffed Cas.

Dean began, "We've got a box with a - "

"Healing stone!" Sam bellowed. Dean balked at the spike in sound. "We've got a healing stone of Asclepius, his iconography, from late first century - "

"It's old," Dean cut him of. "Sammy, volume. Sick people here."

"And angels," Cas tried to joke.

"You count as people," Dean said. "Sam, why don't you check out the healing rock thing, give me a minute here with Cas."

Sam ducked out of the room.

"Kevin said he put together a tablet before you busted him out."

"He did."

"But he's only got Crowley's half the Demon Tablet with him, Cas. So tell me, which tablet did he put back together?"

Cas looked away. "I kept it... inside my vessel in various pieces. I hadn't expected Lachesis. She can delve into the mind, discover - "

"Lachesis?" Dean asked. "That's what you didn't expect?"

Cas didn't understand, so he didn't reply.

"Cas, you went off on your own with the Angel Tablet. You shoulda come to us. You didn't. And you lost it. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking," Cas said, "Kevin's life was more important than the Angel Tablet. There wasn't time to get him and the tablet. I'm sorry if - "

Dean was stunned; he hadn't expected that answer. He interrupted, "No, Cas, you - you're right. Kevin's life is more important - "

Cas sat up so he could see Dean. He interrupted, "When I left before, I needed some certainty that I was free of Naomi."

"Why? Why couldn't you do that with us at your side, Cas?"

The angel didn't want to tell Dean the truth, but here they were. "Naomi made me kill you. Hundreds of times, until I finally just obeyed. No question. No compassion. Nothing. I killed you over and over and over again. Each time I saw you, I thought it was you, the real you, and each time I killed you. After the connection broke, I was afraid it would reform, or relapse, and I'd - "

"Kill me," Dean said softly.

"If had the choice, Dean, I would've picked you."

"You told me you bolted to keep Naomi off our asses."

"That's why I stayed away," the angel said weakly. "But my initial decision, my fear, my distrust... that wasn't about you, Dean. I just didn't know any of that yet."

Dean saw his angel shaking with tremors.

"Cas? Are you okay?"

"Yes, I uh, used a superficial healing ointment," he explained, "on my vessel. This is one of the side effects."

* * *

Sam positioned Kevin on the couch so he could hold the half-tablet to his chest while lying down. He scrounged for Asclepius's healing stone, but before he could return with it, Dean's phone rang.

"Dean's phone," Sam said.

"Sam?" said a man's voice. "It's James."

"James?"

"James Frampton."

"Hey, James, what's going on?" Sam asked. "Sorry, I'm just surprised you called."

"I guess you'll believe me then when I say this is important."

"Yeah, of course - "

"You know Truman High? In Indiana."

"Uh, yeah," Sam remembered not only his childhood time there, but also the ghost they torched there only a few years ago. "Why?"

"I was investigating something in the area, and - major demon activity."

"How major?"

"You watch the news?"

"Not lately," Sam said as he pulled up the news on his computer.

"Flip it on," James said. "Because a group of demons possessed some of the students and went on a killing spree in the middle of the school day."

"What?"

"Cops think it was your basic school shooting," James continued. "And if I hadn't've been there, it would be balls to the wall worse."

"James, what did you do?"

"I exorcised them, and that's where it got weird," he said.

" _That's_ when it got weird?"

"Yeah, one of them gave me a message," he said. "For you and your brother."

"A message?"

"He said, if you and your brother don't come out in the open, they'll tear apart every high school, middle school, elementary school you ever attended."

"What?"

"Sam, this demon had more than enough in him to take me on," James said. "He didn't fight back, and the only reason a demon would hold back like that is - "

"He's under orders."

"Sam, what's going on?"

"Dean and I pissed off the King of Hell."

"How on earth did you manage that one?"

"We thwarted his attempts to kidnap the Prophet of the Lord for one thing."

"Look, I'd love to help, but I gotta be honest, this one's over my head."

"No, James, thanks for calling. I, uh, actually have another favor to ask of you instead."

"Name it."

"There are some people we check in on," Sam said. "We could use a good guy keeping his head down and an eye out for them, you know?"

* * *

"I will go with you," Castiel said.

"No," Sam replied. "We need someone here with Kevin."

"You need to stay here," Cas said to Sam. "It's you he's after."

"What am I, chopped suey?" Dean asked.

"Wha - I don't understand," Cas replied.

Kevin shook violently on the couch.

"We should focus on Kevin," Castiel suggested. "You have the healing stone?"

"Oh, right," Sam fumbled for the object, which he'd stashed in his pocket. He held it out to the angel.

"Actually, Dean should do it," Cas said. "This was only made for humans to handle."

Sam passed it off to Dean, who rolled his eyes and went over to Kevin. He examined the healing stone briefly. It was shaped like a caduceus, and as he recognized the symbol, it felt like it slithered in his hand.

Dean normally would throw anything slippery or slithering out of his hands, but this time he grabbed it with opposite fingers and shoved it onto Kevin's forehead.

"Ugh," was his only comment.

The stone hissed steam. Kevin's eyes fluttered opened and closed; then his face went slack. The caduceus returned to its neutral state.

"What just happened?" Dean asked as he jerked it away from Kevin and dropped it on the ground.

"It purged his system of the drug," Cas remarked.

Sam found a pulse. Putting a hand to Kevin's forehead, he said, "The fever's gone."

"You should let him sleep," Cas advised.

"Good, now Sam and I are going to go kill Crowley," Dean said. "You watch the kid."

"Dean, Crowley is calling you out, trying to kill Sam," Cas said.

"And?"

"And he has the Angel Tablet," Cas added.

Dean continued, "But Kevin's the only one who can read it, so - "

Cas interrupted. "I am saying, Naomi's forces have a reason to stop Crowley. If you - "

"I'm not working with that bitch, Cas," Dean said.

"He's got a point," Sam chimed in.

"What? No!" Dean said to his brother.

"Crowley is slaughtering kids, Dean," Sam protested.

"That's why we have to gank his ass!"

"You need only inform one of the angels," Cas said quietly. "Tell them what Crowley is doing. They will help."

"After what Naomi did to you, you're ready to run to them for help?"

"How many people have died already?" Cas asked.

"Forty-one kids died so far," Sam said.

"I think that's enough, don't you?" the angel asked Dean.

"We worked with Crowley to stop the Apocalypse and Dick Roman," Sam began. "We worked with Meg once to stop Crowley."

"And got boned every time!" Dean said.

Castiel stumbled into the nearest wall.

"Cas?" Sam moved to him.

"Something's very wrong," the angel replied. "There's..."

Dean pulled him upright. "Come on, Cas - "

"We have to go," Cas said dumbly. "Right now."

He grabbed Dean by the wrists, and they vanished.

"What the hell?" Sam yelled after them.

* * *

"What? What else could you possibly have to report?" Naomi asked, her nerves frayed.

Sapphire spoke, "Sam Winchester is calling."

"He - what?" Naomi asked. "What do you mean?"

"He's calling for 'Naomi or any angel who can hear him.'"

Naomi didn't know if she could spare another angel at this point, but she decided if a Winchester called on her, that was at least a step in the right direction, away from Castiel.

"Go to Sam, see what he wants," Naomi said.

"Very well," Sapphire replied.

* * *

Dean and Castiel were stuck in what would normally be a broom closet. Their bodies were pressed together, and Dean suppressed the vivid memory of his dream from the night before.

"Where are we?" he whispered.

"Distress signal brought me here," Cas said. "Listen."

Dean leaned his ear against it.

"Nada."

Cas tentatively opened the door.

Dean got a glimpse of it: a dozen bodies strewn throughout the decimated room with heir eyes burned out of their heads.

"This looks like... angels? Killing demons or monsters, Cas," Dean said as he moved into the room. Cas kept close.

"I think it was."

"Why are we here?"

"Shh!"

"You know, when you're rushing to the aid of someone in secret," a quiet voice spoke, "you should be more subtle. Popping out of a closet? Really?"

A woman appeared from around the corner.

"Therion," Castiel said.

"What're you doing here, angel?" she asked.

"The same thing you are," Cas replied.

"I see we've both failed," she said playfully. "Maybe next draw one of us will hit."

Bang! Bang! Dean shot Therion twice square in the chest. Her eyes flared up, solid green.

"Green?" Dean said. "What the hell?"

"Us old-timers are full of surprises," Therion remarked. She vibrated briefly and suddenly she was healed. "You're human," she said to Dean.

"I'm Dean, nice to meet you, bitch."

"Well, angel-boy here better keep you away from Metatron," she chimed, "because half the people here, they weren't demon at all. Didn't stop him from decimating them, now did it?"

Therion's shadow swept up and around her. She vanished.

"That was new," Dean said.

"That's why I heard the distress signal," Cas said, "if they're trying to capture Metatron, I'd be one of the only angels he'd contact."

"Uh, why?"

"I was a member of the Garrison left to watch over the earth. He wouldn't know that - that most of us are dead."

"We're talking about Metatron, the archangel?"

"Yes."

"Can't he smite the crap outta anything?"

"I don't know," Cas said. "Joshua is far more powerful than I, but he tends a garden. I don't think he smites at all."

"Freaking angels."

"Castiel?" another voice echoed out.

Dean motioned for Cas to wait. He proceeded to check each area of the surrounding rooms efficiently. Meanwhile, Castiel ignored Dean's discretion and teleported toward the voice.

"Nathaniel?" he asked.

"Cas, what the hell?" Dean said as he caught up.

"Did Therion do this?" Cas asked the injured angel.

"No, it was - Gideon."

"Gideon?" Dean asked.

"Another angel," Cas said.

"Naomi - made him - " Nathaniel blubbered.

Cas reached down and touched the angel. Nathaniel started to heal, but soon Cas collapsed.

"I'm sorry, I'm still - I can't heal you," Cas said.

"It's okay," Nathaniel said. "You've already saved me."

Jealousy bubbled up in Dean as he watched the two angels share a brother moment. Nathaniel whispered something to Cas and disappeared.

"Freaking angels."


	8. Summer Stench

**Chapter Eight  
Summer Stench  
**

Kevin woke up.

For the first time in weeks, he felt fully conscious. Like he'd been trapped in a sickbed for a month and finally went home.

Home. The word burned in his throat. He didn't have a home anymore, did he?

"Kevin, you're up," Sam said. "Are you okay?"

"Hungry," Kevin said.

"Sick at all?"

"No, but you look like hell."

"And you sound like yourself again," Sam replied. "That's a good sign."

"You left the tablet on me?" Kevin asked.

"You had a death grip on the thing, dude," Sam replied.

"Oh."

"Let's get you something to eat, huh?"

* * *

"Cas, we need to get back to Sam," Dean said.

"Nathaniel must've answered the call."

"Or Naomi sent him."

"No, he's one of the Garrison, he survived in hiding down here with a few others."

"You're sure?"

"For once, yes I am."

"Okay, so what're we doing?"

"Summoning Metatron, of course."

"Sorry, what?" Dean asked.

"He called for help," Cas said.

"But he's a freakin' archangel - "

"Dean, he wrote the tablets. He knows them."

"So?"

Castiel closed in on the hunter, crowding his personal space. "He's an archangel, which means most people aren't stupid enough to go after him, unless they're absolutely desperate."

"Woah, okay Cas!" Dean said. "Calm down."

"You understand this is about Sam?"

"Sam? I thought we were talking about Metatron - "

"If Crowley gets his hands on what Metatron knows, he'll do anything it takes to stop Sam from shutting the gates."

"Awesome. Okay, so we're summoning ourselves an archangel. But let's not do it here."

"You're right. Is there somewhere you had in mind?"

"Actually, yeah. Let's swing by the bat cave and fill Sammy in."

* * *

"Sapphire? You spoke to Sam Winchester?" Naomi asked.

"Yes. The Prophet is safe and has the rest of the Demon Tablet."

"Excellent," Naomi replied.

"The Angel Tablet, however, was lost. Crowley has it."

"And Metatron?"

"He remains elusive, but we now have confirmed sightings."

"We need to deal with the Angel Tablet swiftly," Naomi said. "Call in everyone, even the cupids."

"Cupids?" Sapphire asked.

"If their tendency for rumors is any indication, they'll make exceptional spies. Go."

* * *

"Sam!" Kevin yelled from the war room. "Sam!"

"Kevin?"

"I've got it!"

"The third trial?"

"Yes. And it's - well. Uh, you have to save a living soul by removing the claim laid upon it by a demon."

"That's it?"

"Well, it uses a really specific indicator, pronoun, whatever," Kevin said. "When it says you, it means you and only you."

"What did it mean before?"

"The other two trials were in commands. Like in English, you say, 'Go away' and the 'you' is implicit. Same thing here. But the third one is more specific, more direct."

"What does that mean?"

"I think it means you can't get a demon to remove the claim. That wouldn't count."

"So no torturing it out of a demon?"

"I guess, but specifically no dealing or bargaining."

"You're saying I have to remove the mark from the soul myself?"

"Mark?" Kevin asked.

"When a claim is made on a living soul, it becomes branded," Sam said, trying his best to remember Castiel's words exactly.

"That's what it means!" Kevin blurted. "I really hope there's a soul tablet out there with that crap on it, because this one glosses over all that."

"All what?"

"It talks about souls the way chemistry books talk about slow step redux - "

"What?" Sam interrupted.

"It's like there's a chapter before this tablet. One that covers souls. Because this tablet references things that don't make sense otherwise."

"A soul tablet? Huh."

"Anyway, that's the third trial. You have to remove the claim upon a living soul."

Sam took a deep breath. "Sounds easier than rescuing a soul from hell, doesn't it?"

"Uh, one minor thing."

"What?"

"The tablet is specific on this. Whatever process you use to remove the claim, the person has to live."

"That'd be the preferred outcome," Sam said.

"Right," Kevin replied, "but I think that's the hard part. Saving a living soul and not killing the body in the process."

Channeling Bobby Singer, Sam said, "Balls!"

* * *

Metatron was an archangel, but all that really meant was that people wanted more from him than a regular angel. Metatron had always been an introvert. That's one of the reasons that God chose him to be the scribe.

But the most powerful of his brothers abused their authority, threw around their weight. And, for their troubles, all four of them were dead or boxed up. There were other archangels, but they didn't covet control, so their names weren't widely known. That was the trouble with power - it generated and immortalized a name that others knew.

Of course, Metatron wasn't like Michael or Lucifer. He didn't want control of Heaven, and he didn't want a name for himself. He was asked to write things down, so he did. Now everyone knew him as The Scribe of God, all because he had nice handwriting.

He took more ammo with him. Metatron favored a shotgun. He once kept a mean-looking elephant gun, but it made him stand out. He didn't like standing out.

Incidentally, that's how he chose his vessels. He did his best not to keep them longer than a few centuries; he chose this one only a decade ago.

'That's what did it,' he thought to himself, 'the new vessel. That's how the angels knew I was still alive.'

"Metatron," a familiar voice said. "There's really no reason to run."

"You sound so sure, Marcus," Metatron replied to his uninvited guest.

"I just have a message, and it's important."

Metatron pointed the gun at his brother. "Go ahead."

"The Prophet, Keeper of the Word, has awoken on Earth. He has been captured, and we now know the Angel Tablet lies in the hands of demons. Heaven needs your help."

"Heaven's got plenty of help," Metatron said. "Bring a message to the others: stay away."

"But - you're the scribe, this is your work," Marcus pleaded. "You must care - "

"Scribe! I wrote things down! My job's done!" Metatron replied. "Go!"

"As you wish," Marcus disappeared.

"Funny, isn't it?" another voice spoke up almost as soon as the angel disappeared. "You write something down and it keeps coming back to bite you in the ass, huh?"

"Who's there?" Metatron barked.

"Name's Kull," said a smartly dressed young man.

"Kull?" Metatron asked. "What do you want?"

"I've a proposal. We have something in common."

"What's that? You're no angel."

"No, but all I want is some peace and quiet. I went into hiding, just like you. Got myself my own little hideaway. But as soon as Big Daddy got his ass kicked - and sooner or later it was bound to happen - who do they run to?"

"You?"

"Once upon a time I was the best Captain to a powerful General," Kull said. "Honestly, I was more of a, uh, Designer. An Architect, if you will."

"Not anymore?"

"I just want some peace," Kull repeated. "Thought you might relate."

"What do you propose? Riding off into the sunset together?"

"Hardly."

Metatron saw that Kull kept a respectable distance. He pointed his shotgun at Kull anyway. "You have two minutes."


	9. A Walking Sleep

**Chapter Nine  
A Walking Sleep**

"You have something for me? A pressy?" Crowley said.

"Kull is speaking with Metatron," Therion replied.

"Speaking?"

"Yes."

"Gotta give him something for the novelty of it. You're here because - ?"

"Something valuable to report."

"Go on."

"Metatron has yet to reveal the trials to Kull, but he mentioned that the trials merely prepare the individual to slam the gates."

"Did he give any hints as to what that chestnut might be?"

"It's a location. One with only a handful of entry points."

"I'm liking this."

"Today, there are only two places humans can utilize for entry," Therion said. "And one more an angel might use, though humans would not likely survive."

"Ah, but what about odds and ends from Eve?" Crowley asked. "Some of them might still be upset with me."

"That would bring the count to a dozen locations total, assuming I should include dragon travel."

Crowley laughed. A deep, booming, happy laugh that only a once-human-now-demon could have. Therion didn't like it.

"Dragons?" Crowley said finally. "Where were you during the Apocalypse, Therion? I coulda used someone who knew every portal off this earth back then."

She smiled. "Oh, I was around, just like I've always been."

"Is that so?"

"I should go back to Kull," Therion said. "I will return with a report."

* * *

Four demons rounded up their meat suits. Together they had three students and one teacher for the middle school they targeted.

"Boss says we can do whatever we want," said Ray, the de facto leader. "I think we should block the exists, have ourselves a little fire."

The conversation quickly spit-balled.

"You plot too loudly."

The person who spoke was, at the time, invisible. The demons didn't know this, so they investigated the room until they found themselves unable to move anymore.

"Ray? I'm stuck!"

"Trapped, is more like it."

Sapphire manifested herself, and she spoke, "Normally I would smite all of you, but I'm under special orders. With the Gates of Hell closing, it's all the same, isn't it?"

"Angel!" hissed Ray. "Our King will just send more!"

She chanted an Enochian exorcism, yanking the demons from the human bodies. She took care to heal all four of them before she left, and she cleared their memories of the possession. They were the first ones she was able to save today.

She closed her eyes for revelation. "Jackson, Tennessee has been cleansed. What is the next target?"

As soon as she heard 'Mayfield, Kentucky' she teleported.

* * *

Dean paced the length of the war room.

"Can I have a moment with Kevin?" Castiel asked.

"Uh, sure," Sam said. "I'll go talk to Dean."

The angel pulled the Prophet into the kitchen. "Have you heard from your mother recently?"

"No, I think - Crowley got to her."

Castiel shook his head.

"You've - you spoke with her?" Kevin asked.

"If you haven't heard from her, that means she's still safe," Cas said.

"Why didn't you mention this earlier?"

"Her safety hinges on secrecy. But we are soon to leave, and if I don't see you again, I wanted you to know now that she's okay."

"Castiel - "

"I know you want to see her, but with everything going on, she's safer out of sight. Especially mine."

Kevin's confusion was apparent on his face.

"Okay, so - " Dean said as he and his brother walked into the kitchen.

"We need you to get to safety," Sam completed the thought.

"I thought I was at safety," Kevin protested.

"You are. But with all three of us heading out, Kev, we want some insurance," Dean said.

"In case all of us die," Cas added.

Sam said, "Thanks, Cas."

"Great," Kevin said.

"We've got a few friends, like Charlie, who could check on you here at the bunker."

"But if you're spotted around this area, and people are really looking for you, they'll eventually find this place," Sam said. "So we thought it'd be better to have mobility."

"Could we also get my mom?" Kevin asked.

"Your mom?" Sam asked. "I thought - "

Dean and Sam followed the line of Kevin's sight, which led straight to Castiel.

"Cas?" Dean cut his brother off.

"We could coordinate a, uh, pickup," the angel replied. He asked, "Do we have a vehicle for Kevin? Assuming you meant that a vehicle was involved in the mobility - "

Sam cut him off, "Yeah, Charlie found us a mobile home and tricked it out with hunter stuff and warding. It'd be perfect."

"Perfect?" Kevin asked.

"You can go on the internet, use a phone, without people knowing where you are," Dean said. "Charlie's a hacker."

"And?"

"You could get your GED," Sam said. He realized how stupid this sounded as soon as he said it.

Kevin laughed. "Well, that's, uh, good I guess."

"You can see other people," Dean said.

"Or you could stay here," Sam offered. "We could have Charlie check in on you, bring you supplies, but you would have to stay in here, out of sight."

"The truck sounds better. I mean, it'd be nice to see other people," Kevin said.

"Thought you'd say that," Sam opened his phone. "I'll make the call."

"A friend of ours, Aaron Bass, he's part of the - " Dean realized a history lesson might not be needed, so he switched gears. "He's got a Golem. Seriously hardcore. And not on anyone's radar. Let's just try to keep it that way, okay, prophet-boy?"

"And my mom?"

"I will contact Garth," Cas said simply.

"Garth?" Dean said. "How do you know Garth?"

"I spoke with Kevin's mother, and Garth was with her. I advised them on how to elude Crowley."

"When did this happen?" Dean snapped.

"After... Kevin disappeared."

"What?"

"I wanted to help," Cas explained.

Dean reeled himself in. There was no reason to yell at Cas, especially not in front of Kevin after he just learned the angel saved his mom.

"We'll discuss this later," Dean said.

"I need the muted duotone burner phone," Cas said to Dean. "You usually keep it with your things."

"What? That thing doesn't work anymore, why - "

"Because it's the only device that can reach Garth."

"When did you - " Dean began.

Cas cut in, "I'm sorry. You weren't using it for anything but kept it close, I thought it was the best candidate for this role."

"Freaking angels."

* * *

Gideon flew across the room, splintering furniture as he went. A dozen demons, all possessing human children, advanced on him. His orders had been clear: save as many humans as possible. His death would not save these children, so -

As the first demon broke rank to tackle, Gideon darted up and took its head in his hands. Blinding light burst out, and the other demons flinched at its radiance.

The angel kept his radiating energy strong, even after he killed the demon. The demons could not approach him as he chanted an Enochian exorcism.

Eleven out of a dozen humans, that was better than his last school.

Gideon focused his mind on home. "Fordyce, Arkansas is cleansed. What is the next target?"

'Gold Hill, Utah.'

* * *

"We should go," Cas said to Dean.

"Someone needs to be here to see Kevin off - "

"I'll do it," Sam said.

"You will?"

"Now I know what the last trial is, I need to figure it out. We both know I'll be voted most likely to cough up a lung in the field, so, might as well stay here."

"All right," Dean agreed.

"Kevin Tran," Cas said. "Be well."

"Uh, sure," Kevin said. "Don't be so serious."

"I'll try."

"Kev," Dean clapped him on the shoulder. "We'll keep the tablet safe for you."

"I'm not worried. Don't die."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Castiel took Dean's arm and teleported to Singer's Lot.

"Cas."

"Yes Dean?"

"When you and Nate we having a moment - "

"Nathaniel?"

"Yeah, the angel. He said something to you I couldn't hear. What was it?"

"He told me that a full break from Naomi's connection was possible. That I was free from her."

"You believe him?"

"He didn't kill me."

"That's it?"

"Had he been under Naomi's control still, he would have at least tried."

Changing gears, Dean asked, "So you do trust me?"

"With my life."

"Then why didn't you tell me about Kevin's mom?"

"If it was Sam, wouldn't you want me to tell you first?"

"That's not the - "

"It is the same. She's his only family."

Cas set up the ritual, careful with every ingredient. Dean watched him work. He didn't even feel self-conscious about it. The angel finished preparations and turned to him.

"Close you eyes, Dean," Cas said.

"Cas - "

"Dean."

"Fine."

He closed his eyes. Dean had had a dream like this once. He, Sam, Cas, and Bobby were outside in Singer's Lot. Cas had been silently elected to convince Dean to close his eyes, so Bobby and Sam could reveal his birthday present. As Cas coaxed him to shut his eyes, he felt like he had a family, and that's when he'd wake up. He hadn't realized, till this moment, that he had never seen what the present was. That never really mattered.

Cas babbled something in Enochian.

Nothing happened.

"Cas, is everything okay?"

"I think you'll need to do this. No, keep you eyes closed!"

"Cas, come on, you want me to summon a dude with my eyes closed?"

"He can appear at any time, and if he does so in true form, you will be blinded, then killed if you see him - "

"All right!" Dean interrupted.

"I'm preparing the summoning ritual for you," Cas said.

Cas guided Dean a few steps then cut his forearm.

"Cas! What the hell!" Dean shouted, but he kept his eyes shut.

"I need your blood. Now repeat after me."

Dean listened and repeated each word. Or, whatever sounded like a word to Dean. He didn't know Enochian that well.

Pop!

"What?" a man's voice asked.

The sound of a barrel cocking snapped Dean's eyes open. Before him stood a very average man with a fair deal of scruff.

"We're answering your distress call," Castiel said.

"Who's that?"

"Me? I'm Dean. Dean Winchester."

The gun swung in his direction. Cas moved between them.

"Please, brother, he's with me."

"You are?"

"Castiel."

"This is Metatron?" Dean said to Castiel's back.

"Gotta problem with that?"

"No," Dean said. "You remind me of Gabriel. But with a gun."

"Why are you the only one who answered?" Metatron asked.

"The Garrison - "

"Leviathan killed them off, after the Apocalypse fell apart," Dean said. "Look, you called for help. We're here. What's up?"

"Snarky," Metatron said. "I was attacked by demons who had an angel in their ranks."

"An angel?"

"Simanvian. Of course I'd rebel too if Dad gave me that dumb a name. He's dead, in case you're wondering."

"We gotta place for you to hide out from the God squad and the demons," Dean cut in. "Till we slam the gates."

"What do you want?"

"Sorry?" Dean asked.

"For helping me."

"Uh, don't spill the beans on the trials," Dean said.

"And the Prophet would like to meet you," Cas added.

"That's it?" Metatron pointed the gun here and there. "You expect me to believe that?"

"You called for help, we're answering, and we've got shit to do, so do you want our help or not?" Dean said.

"He's impatient," Castiel clarified.

"Now, now, now," drawled a man as he appeared from behind a few cars. "He's got good reason to be."

Red eyes. Black eyes. Demons were everywhere, like they just crawled out of every crack in creation, slithering to the junkyard.

"Mr. Metatron," drawled the demon, "you have an invitation to meet the King."

Dean grabbed the nearest sucker and stabbed it with the demon knife.

Castiel joined him in the hacking and slashing. Over all, the demons were lousy; usually they'd beat the crap out of him in the process. But most of them went down without much of a fight.

Wings echoed everywhere. Half a dozen angels perched here and there around the wrecked cars.

"Not good," Dean said. "Metatron, in or out?"

Castiel toppled onto Dean and covered him as the angels obliterated the demons with blinding light. Even as they did so, more demons flowed in like rain.

Benjamin pulled Cas off of Dean. "Looks like we have two things for Naomi."

Dean scrambled to his feet ready to fight -

Another demon knocked Benjamin over, throwing him into a nearby car. Dean pulled his angel back, away from the fray, to assess. All the demons were down, except for the one fighting Benjamin.

"You must be old," Benjamin said as he traded blows.

"Name's Kull."

Cas teleported Dean to Metatron. "We need to leave," he said to the archangel.

Benjamin thrust his blade through Kull's back. Suddenly angels surrounded Metatron and Castiel, and Dean found himself on the ground in front of Cas.


	10. For Honest Men

**Chapter Ten  
For Honest Men  
**

"Amber, report our good news," Benjamin said.

Amber disappeared.

"My work here is done," Gideon said to Benjamin, who nodded. Then Gideon, too, disappeared.

Benjamin continued, "She'll be delighted to finally know what you know Metatron."

"You're a good little bitch aren't you?" Dean asked as he got to his feet. "Naomi says go fetch, and you do."

Benjamin drew Dean uncomfortably close. "I have a duty," he said, "and I know my place. You certainly never learned yours."

"Let him go, Benjamin," Cas demanded.

"I don't take orders from the likes of you, Castiel."

* * *

Crowley felt a chill.

"Who's there?"

"It's me, sir," Therion said.

"News?"

"The third trial is to remove a brand from a living soul," she reported.

"That's impossible, unless a demon does it."

"So is freeing an innocent soul from hell," Therion said.

"You think they'll succeed?"

"I don't know, but Kull is dead."

"I figured it was something like that. When there's a bee in your bonnet, everyone can feel it, love."

"You seem unphased by this news."

"Your reports have given me a game plan," said Crowley. "And I have another task for you."

"Which is?"

"Thing One and Thing Two will make their move soon. That's when they'll move the Prophet. He'll be vulnerable, but that's fine, because they'll assume that everyone is out for their blood. I need someone with your skill set to monitor the wave lengths for our charming little Prophet."

"And should I see him?"

"Capture," Crowley said. "Maiming is okay. Just keep him alive and sane."

"And until then?"

"I need your eight legs in the shadows, love, sorry."

"The shadows. That's my best feature."

* * *

"Castiel is twice the angel you ever were," Dean said to Benjamin. "I know an inferiority complex when I see it."

"Dean – "

"You speak to this human as if he were your equal," Benjamin said to Castiel, throwing Dean on his ass. "You are a disgrace to your own kind – "

Benjamin stopped. He writhed as black lines pulsated throughout his body. Black goo exploded out of his eyes and mouth.

Kull smiled at Dean as he dropped the angel. "Thanks for this by the way," Kull said as he pulled the angel blade out of his own chest and threw it into an angel flanking Casitel. "I always wanted a pair."

Kull produced another angel blade and began to disappear and re-appeared abruptly.

Dean tackled Metatron; Cas took the opportunity to teleport them away from the skirmish.

Kull obliterated the remaining angels; their bodies burned wings across the ground.

"Nice," Therion commented.

"Ther," Kull said casually. "You're early."

"I've got it," she said.

Dean and Castiel were inside of an old junker not far from the pair. Again, their bodies were pressed together, and Dean's dream flooded his brain with endorphins.

There was no way for him to know that the same thing was happening to Castiel.

He forced himself to focus on anything else but Castiel. "Isn't she a demon?" Dean asked.

Cas nodded, then touched his lips with one finger. At least his proficiency at sign language was improving.

Kull pulled Therion into a luxurious, and rather hideous, kiss. Dean's gag reflex kicked up as he saw two spider legs appear, right out of her back. Clapped between the two hairy members was –

"Is that a tablet?" Dean whispered.

Cas covered Dean's mouth with his hand.

"Crowley gave it to you?" Kull asked.

"'Gave' might be a strong word," Therion crooned. Her legs, or whatever they were, disappeared again. "The King assigned me a special mission. I like to think of this as appropriate tribute."

Dean felt himself teleported away.

* * *

Metatron sat in what had to be the smallest cottage he'd ever seen. Or was it a cabin? He wasn't sure.

Castiel appeared with his human sidekick.

"Is this your idea of helping me?" Metatron asked.

"This place is warded from everything," Dean said.

"Why here?"

"It's what we had on such short notice," Dean replied. "We don't have a lot of hideaways that Crowley hasn't found. Or Naomi."

"Well, then, thanks, I guess."

"Call us if you have a problem," Dean tossed him a cell phone. Metatron caught it with a single hand. Maybe he was less of a nerd than he looked.

"Can I ask you something?"

"I suppose."

"You could've smote the crap out of every demon in the lot. Why didn't you?"

"Do you know what it means to be an archangel?"

"No."

"Power, sure. Duty. Everyone wants something from you. Raphael, Gabriel, Lucifer, even Michael, they all had..."

"Enormous egos?" Dean suggested.

"They enjoyed their positions," Metatron said. "They wanted power. They liked giving orders. They were made for it. Literally. Me? I have nice handwriting. I never wanted to give orders or answer big questions."

"You're an archangel," Dean said, "so doesn't that mean you're built for it, too?"

"We all had jobs. If Joshua is still alive, I'm sure he's still tending the garden."

"He is."

"I'm glad. He has exactly what I want: a simple job with a continuous mission. I took down the word of my father. But that was finite. There aren't anymore words."

"So you hibernated?"

"Knowledge is power," Metatron said quietly. "I didn't want power, and I couldn't let others abuse the knowledge I had. Which meant I needed to disappear."

"This was to protect the tablets?" Dean asked.

"To keep their secrets, until humanity discovered it. Read it for themselves."

Castiel put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Would you give me a moment with him, please?"

"Well, uh, thanks I guess," Dean said to Metatron. He left the two angels alone in the room.

"Let me guess, you have questions," Metatron said. "About Heaven and Hell and Earth and humanity and the great big why. Right?"

"I do have one question," Castiel admitted. "But not about any of those things."

* * *

"What was that about?" Dean asked. Castiel had teleported them somewhere in Brooklyn as part of an effort to throw anyone off their trail before returning to the bunker.

"I asked him about my father," Cas said quietly.

"Ah, God crap?"

Dean saw sadness in Castiel's face.

"You're father raised you," Cas said. "I've never had a relationship with my father... not like that. I've felt his presence like I've been in his shadow. But I've never seen his face or heard his voice. Only a few angels have. I've never had occasion to ask."

"Now you know?"

"I have an idea," Cas replied.

"You glad you asked?"

"Very."

They landed back in the bat cave to find Sam's head in a book.

"Little brother's still nerdy, always a good thing," Dean commented.

"How did it go?"

"Four dozen demons. Six angels. One Leviathan. And a weirdo creepy demon with spider legs who has the damn Angel Tablet. Otherwise, Metatron has been stowed for now."

"It wasn't the Angel Tablet," Castiel said.

Dean and Sam both looked at Cas.

"I wanted to see what Kull was doing, working with the demons... I thought... I thought it would be okay..."

"Start at the beginning, Cas," Sam said.

"I hid the Angel Tablet. It's safe. But I knew it was only a matter of time before Crowley or Naomi caught up with me, and if I ever wanted to get away, I had to... let Mothra and Godzilla fight."

Sam laughed, "Really?"

"That was how you two saved Anna," Cas admitted quietly.

"Okay, if the Angel Tablet is locked away on the moon or whatever," Dean said, "What do Kull and Therion have?"

"The Leviathan Tablet," Castiel answered.

"Where did you get that?" Sam asked.

"Roman Enterprises in Chicago."

"That place fell apart – "

"The building's still there. It was hidden in a wall."

"Okay, but if you wanted a ringer, couldn't you just scratch up a regular rock?"

Castiel tilted his head in thought. "That didn't seem a wise option. Kevin reassembled the Leviathan Tablet in front of Crowley. He was convinced it was the Angel Tablet."

"And Crowley can't read it to double check," Sam said. "Smart."

"Why do you look so glum?" Dean asked.

"I didn't know Crowley had Leviathans working for him! Now Kull has the tablet – "

"He can't read it, Cas," Dean reminded him.

"And Kevin is safe," Sam added.

"You did good, Cas," Dean patted the angel on the shoulder. "Still wish you included us, but I understand."

"And we're gonna need your help for this, Cas," Sam said. He pointed to the books. "I need to figure out how to remove a claim on a living soul without killing the body."

"Can you – " Cas began.

"No one can help. It has to be me doing it."

Castiel took a deep breath. "That's... unpleasant."

"Not something we can do trial and error on, either," Sam said.

"I'll say," said a woman Cas had never met before.

"Cas, this is Ellie. Ellie, this is Castiel," Sam introduced.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : This chapter marks the end of the second episode adapted, originally called 08x22 Black Hole Sun. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far and will check back for future updates.

For reference, the **Ellie** mentioned at the end of this chapter is the woman the Winchesters rescued from the hellhound in the canon episode 08x14 "Trial and Error."


	11. Turnaround Outside

**Chapter Eleven  
Turnaround Outside  
**

Naomi's fury radiated beyond her office. Anyone walking in the general vicinity could feel her anger simmering to the surface, and everyone knew that Naomi never became angry. Not like this.

Amber weathered the storm fairly well, given the circumstances.

"Five dead, five! You said you had Castiel and Metatron!" Naomi yelled.

"Benjamin sent me to report to you, but when I returned, they were all dead. Except Gideon. He wasn't there."

"Two were killed by Leviathan," Naomi continued. "Why were Leviathan there?"

"I don't know, ma'am," Amber answered. "But when I returned, one of the demons Benjamin killed was alive and cavorting with Therion."

"Just the two of them?"

"Yes, there was no sign of Metatron or Castiel."

"Anything else?"

"No, ma'am."

"Do we have status on Crowley's other attacks?" she asked.

Amber nodded. "Yes, ma'am. They've stopped attacking schools, but we have intelligence Crowley may target other groups soon."

"Any specifics?"

"We know Crowley's only goal is to distract the Winchesters," Amber replied. "Sapphire will be back soon with additional reports."

"Dismissed," Naomi ordered.

* * *

"I do not know," Castiel repeated. "What part of that escapes your understanding?"

"Cool it, both of you!" Dean interjected.

Sam barely managed to hold back, but Dean knocked him into his chair.

"Dude, reign it in, you can barely stand," Dean said.

"If I knew how to complete the trial," Cas continued more calmly, "then I would tell you."

"Fine, then, who would know?" Sam asked. "Who would know how to remove a mark from a living soul?"

"That's not the problem," the angel replied. "Removing a mark is nothing, the problem is that the mortals we're discussing have taken the mark voluntarily. I can remove a brand placed by force. A mark added to a willing soul? No angel can remove that. Not without killing the individual."

"That's not an answer, Cas!"

"Sam, cool it," Dean cut in.

"I like this," Ellie added casually. "Three guys fighting over me."

The angel began, "We aren't fighting over you, just how to – "

"Cas, not now," Dean said. "Let's focus on what we know."

"When a claim is placed on a living soul, it is branded," Cas began.

"Marks added by way of demon details stick harder," Dean added.

"And as far as we know, all the methods used to expunge those marks wind up killing the person," Sam completed. "Unless you deal with another demon – "

"Sorry, what?" Ellie asked.

Sam answered, "Kevin said that wouldn't work for this trial, but you can make a deal with a demon to remove the claim on a soul."

"One time, Sam held off the hellhounds while I got the devil bitch in a trap," Dean recounted. "And we made a deal. I'd let her out if she'd let the guy live."

"That was before we knew how to kill demons," Sam said.

Cas said, "That's another reason why that wouldn't work now. Demons won't deal with a Winchester," the angel said to Ellie. "They're known for having no mercy."

"Towards demonic douchebags," Dean commented.

"Ah," Ellie said, sitting down. "Besides, that'd mean your soul would be marked instead, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

The room filled with silence.

"Oh, com'on!" Dean exclaimed. "We gotta know something more than that."

"What about those, uh, things that collect souls?" Ellie suggested. "The evil dogs."

"Hellhounds," Sam said. "They must hone in on the mark."

"Fido can sniff'em out?" Dean asked as he scribbled a note and pinned it to the corkboard. "I dunno what that means."

"Cas, what about how souls are branded?" Sam asked.

"I never branded a soul before," Castiel replied. He slipped into wide-eyed contemplation and didn't elaborate.

After about two minutes, Dean spoke up. "Uh, Cas. Hello? Earth to Cas?"

The angel shook his head clear and made eye contact with Dean. "Did you just refer to yourself as 'Earth'? Is that a new nickname?" he asked Dean.

"No it's just, uh," Dean began. He realized explaining the expression to Cas might take too much time, so he went back to the topic at hand. "Balthazar did it, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did."

"How?" Sam followed up immediately.

The angel shook his head. "I imagine it had something to do with the deals he struck."

"Deals? As in plural?" Dean asked. "I thought it was just that one kid."

"Dean, not now," Sam said. "Cas, tell us everything about these deals."

"It's basic binding magic, I'm sure there's a book about it somewhere."

"That's not – " Sam began.

Cas interrupted, "Binding is different, and much easier, than unbinding magic."

Ellie asked, "What about the special cases you mentioned before? You said angels could remove marks from people who have made deals."

"Indeed," the angel replied. "A mark forced on someone's soul can be purged, burned away. But that same effect on a willing soul is always fatal."

"Why?" Dean asked.

The angel shrugged. "Unbinding a mark takes serious power, and when the soul's branded willingly, it takes ten times more. Removing it from a living soul simply comes at the expense of the body."

Sam sat up straight. "What if it isn't in the body?"

"That would be an effective measure," Cas said, "but then you would die, and the effort would be in vain."

"So if Ellie's soul is in her body, it burns away her body, and if the soul isn't contained, then it burns away my body?" Sam asked.

"Assuming you were stupid enough to try, yes," Cas replied.

"But that's something," Dean said, pinning up another note to the board. "A way to remove the mark and not kill Ellie. Feels like we're halfway there."

"All we'd need to do is figure out how to keep Sam alive," Casitel added. "That seems easier."

"Seriously?" Sam asked.

Dean turned to Ellie, "This is why we don't usually have brainstorming sessions."

"Okay, a crossroads demon can remove a mark from a soul if a deal is made," Sam started. "I vote we summon one for a heart-to-heart."

"I gotta better idea," Dean replied.


	12. Look at Who

**Chapter Twelve  
Look at Who**

Crowley lived with setbacks. Part of being a demon, even the King of Hell, meant dealing with unreliable or dubious minions and their failings, yet even he had his breaking points.

Therion gave him the lay of the land, so to speak, to the various entry points to the Great Levers, where Sam and Dean had to go to actually shut the Gates of Hell. Kull did him more than just a solid by gathering this intelligence; he gift-wrapped the best counteroffensive possible. Too bad the poor fellow died before being rewarded.

In reality, Kull's death made the information even better. Therion alone knew that Crowley had this information, which meant that the Winchesters and Naomi were in the dark.

He lost the Prophet. He lost Kull, and he failed to buck the Winchesters from their mission. That should have knocked Crowley onto his ass. Instead, he was laughing.

"You asked for me, sir?" Wier said.

"There's been a recent opening," Crowley began. "I need a new right-hand man, Wier, and, well, you're it."

"Me, sir?" the demon repeated, his voice a little stiff. "Are you sure?"

"And that's it, kitten," Crowley replied. "Most of the boys, I drag them in here and tell them they're promoted and they're ready to be torn apart by wild horses. You, on the other hand, seem a little tense. That means you're smarter than you look."

"It means that being promoted is only an honor if I live long enough to enjoy it," Wier replied.

"Indeed. Right now, what I need is information. I need to know if the Winchesters move, when they move, how they move, who's with them. That kind of thing, but that's all I want. No fighting, no attacking, no plotting."

"Intelligence gathering only," Wier summarized. "That eliminates about half of the demons we have out there, sir. They see a chance, and they'll take it."

"Exactly, love! Exactly. What I need you to do is take the best of those demons, the strongest, and find a way to put them on ice. Lock them up, whatever you need to do."

"Yes, sir. What about the other half?"

Crowley drank his Scotch. One of the things he loved best about being King of Hell was making people wait. Wier had scrambled up the chain of command without drawing the attention of the Winchesters or other hunters. Even the angels didn't key in on him. He was just that good, but even he had to wait until Crowley was good and ready to speak before getting his damn orders. Something about that made Crowley feel powerful.

"We need the Winchesters to think that Hell is desperate, that finishing the third trial will be the very end of us. So tell a few of our more violent counterparts that very story, and give them free reign to stop those idiots," Crowley directed. "Just be clear on the story, you understand?"

"I know the best candidates for that very task," Wier said playfully.

"Once you've sent out enough, come back here for further instruction, darling."

"Yes, sir."

Wier left the room. Crowley noticed how stiffly formal the demon was, so terribly old school. The King would have to teach him right from wrong if he lived through this last Winchester problem.

* * *

Castiel and Sam waited in the Impala. The angel stared out the window, directly at Dean with no embarrassment or explanation.

His mind wandered needlessly. Dean had vivid dreams about him. In many of them, he was being attacked, or dying, or something reminiscent of day-to-day activities. But Dean also had intimate dreams where the angel pressed kisses into his neck, his chest, his thighs.

Naomi's tampering limited his awareness of Dean's prayers and dreams after his escape from Purgatory, but now they filled him up with passion, lust, and affection. Meanwhile, Dean acted opposite to the nature of these dreams, like Castiel was a pest instead of a lover.

His heart fluttered at the idea of being with Dean in such a capacity. Dean's dreams were incredibly visceral, the physical sensation as much a component of the dream as the visual feast.

The last dream had been the most intense, possibly because of his proximity to Dean at the time. It was a strange phenomenon, as the angel did not enter the dream with his powers, but he became bound up in it, as if the content itself drew him in.

Just the memory of the events reddened the angel's skin and made him very conscious of his vessel. Cas bit his tongue and stared at Dean Winchester, reminding himself that his dreams were not reality. If anything, Dean avoided all intimate contact between them, physical or otherwise. There was no reason to suspect Dean actually had feelings for him.

"So, Cas, I've been meaning to ask," Sam said, his slightly green complexion tinting red with his own feelings. "About that book you made for Dean."

"Book?"

"The one where you answered his prayers because you couldn't actually call him," Sam reminded him.

"My letters," Castiel corrected. "What about them?"

"Why did you write them?"

"Guilt, mostly," the angel admitted, not taking his eyes off of Dean. "And I wasn't sure I would survive to apologize. That would've been unfortunate."

"Cas, Dean's not the only one who prays to you," Sam said. "But every letter in that book was addressed to him."

"The trouble with guilt as a motivational tool," Cas said, "is that its absence feels like absolution."

Sam wasn't sure what to make of that. "Are you saying my prayers didn't make you feel as guilty as Dean's?" he asked.

Castiel's blue eyes finally moved away from Dean to meet Sam's when he answered, "Your prayers don't make me feel guilty at all, which is especially surprising, given our history."

"Cas, breaking my wall and, all of that, it's behind me," Sam said. "Behind us. In the long run, you did me a favor."

The angel tilted his head with utter disbelief written across his face.

Sam continued, "I mean, that wall was keeping me alive, but let's face it, it was a ticking time bomb. If I still had that thing and all my hell baggage, I'm sure Crowley would've used it to stop me from completing the trials."

"But I didn't break your wall to help you," Cas said. "I did it because it was the only way to blackmail your brother."

"You did it because you couldn't, and wouldn't, kill us," Sam replied. "I mean it, Cas, you're forgiven. Maybe you hurt me for the wrong reasons, but you saved me for the right ones."

"I understand that you feel that way," the angel replied thoughtfully. "But for some reason I don't."

"You've spent too much time with Dean," Sam commented jokingly. The idea made Cas's heart flutter again. "You're holding onto blame. It's like emotional osmosis or something."

Silence. Minutes ticked by. The angel remembered the most passionate element of Dean's dreams -

Sam asked, "Cas, how do you feel about Dean?"

"I'm concerned he will never forgive me," the angel replied. "Not like you have."

"That's not what I mean. I mean, what do you feel towards him?"

"I don't understand - "

"Wait, something's happening," Sam interrupted, pointing.

* * *

Outside, about a dozen yards from the car, another person joined Dean and Ellie.

"It's about time, I thought we were being stood up," Dean said by way of greeting.

"Crowley's gonna have half a dozen demons here to rip you apart – "

"Yeah, I don't think so, we're in a no-demon zone. No disappearing, no smoking out, no demon calls, nada."

"There's no devil's trap, Winchester," the demon replied smugly as he waved his hand and – nothing happened.

Dean moved quickly, slapping handcuffs and winding the crossroads demon up in iron chains.

"There's no devil's trap, because that's what Crowley would be looking for, and we're gonna have a nice quiet conversation without him getting involved, you understand?"

"Suck it!" barked the demon, struggling against the chains. "What did you do to me?"

"Just a little consecrated ground, a little hex bag work here and there, it's nothing," Dean replied mildly. "I'm not here to – "

"Torture me for information like you did to the last cross-roads demon?" he spat. He turned to Ellie and asked, "Who's your little bitch?"

Dean plowed the demon in the face. "Her name is Ellie, and you're gonna be polite, you understand?"

"Screw you!"

"Now, now, chuckles," Dean replied. "I didn't call you up here to torture you, I called you to make a deal."

"Sure you did."

"Ellie's soul here is ear-marked for Hell – "

The demon interjected, "And her payment's overdue!"

"I want you to remove the mark."

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Can't!"

"Even if I offer you a straight up deal?" Dean asked.

The demon turned his head and smiled. "You mean ten years and your soul for her freedom? Sorry, kiddo, doesn't work like that."

"I know that, I'm talking more like five years and my soul for her freedom."

"Dean – " Ellie started, but she stopped when Dean waved his hand.

"Maybe I can get you two years," the demon bubbled. "But that's it."

"So you can do it?" Dean asked.

"When a deal is struck that marks a soul for Hell, I can tap into our, uh, energy reserve," the demon explained. "I can do anything, including removing the mark and raising the dead, so long as that lock is turned."

"Lock?" Dean repeated. "Sorry, little slow here. What lock?"

"The mechanics aren't really your concern. You seal the deal with a kiss, I set things in motion. Oh, with a caveat, of course. If you even attempt to get out of this deal, even just talking about it, hellhounds collect on her deal and yours immediately."

The demon kept talking even when Dean turned his back and waved over Castiel and Sam.

"He can do it!" Dean said happily. "Cas, you got Ellie?"

"Yes, we'll see you there," the angel replied.

He took Ellie's hand and in the blink of an eye, she and Cas disappeared.

Sam dragged the snarling demon and tossed him into the back seat of the Impala. Dean sat up front and waited for his brother.

"Can we stop for chips?" Sam asked as he got back into the car.

* * *

Naomi had never felt powerless before. She'd been trapped, captured, tortured, sure, but she'd never once experienced a situation in which she was helpless. She possessed no solid expression of this experience. As an angel, she hated the idea of resorting to humanity's metaphors, but here she was, alone in her office, drowning.

She should blame Crowley; after all, he was the enemy. But in her mind, her fury honed solely on Castiel, the traitor she failed to reform.

And she hated herself. The archangels asked her if she could convert Castiel, the angel gone rogue for humanity, the angel who led the civil war, the angel who believed in free will. Naomi never failed at such a task before, and now her first true failure, Castiel, not only stole the Angel Tablet, but also managed to herd a new onslaught of botched defectors to light.

She'd received word that Matthon was still alive, and she knew that Nathaniel had achieved full freedom from her binding. Slowly, angels here and there slipped away, and nothing she did could contain it. Naomi lost her touch because of Castiel.

An old friend, the love of her life, came into her office. She bowed her head, not wanting to make eye contact, not wanting to share her burden –

"Naomi," the other angel said. "Will you walk with me in the Garden?"

Noami let her eyes drift up. The Garden. They'd only walk together there on personal business. She felt hope spark in her heart –

"Naomi," the other angel repeated. "Please, this isn't about work. Come walk with me. Talk with me, as your closest friend and not your superior. Please."

She didn't think about it; Naomi left her chair and the weight of Heaven and Earth that came with it behind her.

* * *

"You told me you could do it," Dean repeated. "We only need to know how."

"I told you," the demon hissed. "I don't have that kind of power! You need to sign a contract to get something like that moving!"

"We get it, you don't have the power, we don't have the power," Sam said, tapping Dean out of the verbal sparing match. "Tell us about how it's done."

The demon bled profusely and had chains tangled around its every limb, yet still the creature laughed like it knew no pain. Dean lobbed holy water at him, and he yowled like a rabid dog.

"You fools," the demon said. "You think this is like flying or climbing a mountain? You can do it if you've got the juice? We'll it's not. You can't do it unless you – "

"We've heard this before," Sam said. His voice remained still and calm. Whatever illness had its hooks in him before took a back seat about an hour ago, and his entire body energized to a new level.

Sam closed in on the demon. "Your boss once told us we couldn't summon Death. Lucifer could, because, well, that's Lucifer, but once he handed over that spell, we summoned Death just the same."

"The King? Working with the Winchesters? Please."

"He didn't tell you," Sam said slyly. "Course he wouldn't. I mean, that can't be easy on him. Knowing he owes everything he has to us. He can't let secrets like that out, now can he?"

The demon didn't respond.

"Yeah, see, back during the Apocalypse, Crowley was on the torture-for-all-eternity list," Sam said. "He wasn't in Lucifer's little camp, and he had to wait for us to take him down."

"And we had to summon Death to stop the next guy your boss couldn't take out," Dean said, specifically avoiding the fact that the guy in question was Castiel.

"And then came Dick Roman," Sam continued.

"What?"

"You must be new if you missed the Dick-hands-off directive on me and Sammy," Dean cut in. "Levis gave your boss a run for his money."

"So let's not play the dumb blond act," Sam picked up. "You are going to tell us everything because the truth is, your boss let you come to us. You're his little bitch messenger he fed into the meat grinder to get his dirty work done because he doesn't have the muscle for it."

"It'll hardly be the first time," Dean chimed in.

The lie was so seamless the demon couldn't navigate around it. He had been around long enough to know about Castiel-gone-God without them filling in that blank, and he'd gotten the hands-off notice on the Winchesters when the Leviathan were out in full force.

"Why would the King of Hell want you two idiots to know how to remove his marks from human souls?" the demon asked.

"His marks?" Dean said. "Who said anything about the marks belonging to him?"

Sam saw the demon take the hook, so he continued, "Yeah, demons aren't the only one laying claim to souls. Monsters and angels can do it, too."

"What's it gonna be, jackass?" Dean taunted.


	13. Look at Where

**Chapter Thirteen  
Look at Where**

"You've got to be kidding me!" Crowley bellowed.

Avery didn't flinch. "Sir, he checked out on a basic deal summons, and we double and triple checked the spell - "

"If it's not the Winchesters, then where is he?" Crowley blurted. "Took a quick getaway? Got lost in a good daydream? Or is he trussed and tethered, spilling his guts to those wretched flannel-wearing nightmares!"

"They'll find themselves disappointed," Avery replied.

"Sorry?"

"Since you gave the order, the only people I've let go on crossroads summons are, well, interns," Avery admitted. "We have lost a deal or two as a result."

"But the chump that's missing?"

"Knows how to bind a deal, nothing more," Avery replied. "He can't even do it by himself, he needs a senior partner to set anything in motion."

"That's something," Crowley answer. "I don't want to hear about any more mistakes, Avery."

"One more thing, sir," Avery said. "I have a few friends trained to track our interns down, just in case."

Crowley turned slowly towards one of his almost-intelligent minions. "And you waited until now to tell me?"

"All I need is your permission - "

"Send them! NOW!"

* * *

"The soul, when it's contained in the body, has an outer layer," said the demon. "Spirits have ectoplasm, similar idea. That's where a brand is laid. Removing a mark like that requires a purging spell."

"Purging?" Dean asked. "Doesn't sound like a demon deal."

"Angels invented the process, I'm sure. They don't need to tap into Heaven to do it. Basically, the soul sloughs off its outer layer of ecto - "

"That's when it burns up the body," Sam said to Dean.

The demon continued without interruption, "The tricky part is getting the soul to regenerate its outer layer."

"Like a snake, shedding skin," Sam acknowledged.

"But hundreds of times faster," the demon replied, "and instead of a reptile, it's like a tiny burning sun."

"What spell - " Sam began.

He stopped speaking. A howl echoed outside. The Winchesters froze for a moment. They knew what made those kinds of barks.

"We've got company," Dean said.

"Ace!" the demon boomed. "That's my boy!"

"You mean your bitch," Sam spat.

With one swift motion, Sam plunged the Demon Knife into the helpless demon and started working the chains off of him. Dean whipped out the Colt and donned his holy-fire scorched glasses.

"Hurry up, Sam - "

"Get the car ready."

"I'm not leaving you!"

"No, you're getting the damn car ready, go!" Sam said as he gathered up the hex bags.

Dean ran to the Impala, which was parked at the other end the warehouse. He revved the engine and pulled around. No sooner had he reached his brother than two hellhounds burst into the building through boarded windows.

Sam ducked into the car, too bogged down to take the Colt from Dean.

"Damn it Sammy, it's illegal to shoot and drive," Dean said as he swirled the car around.

"No it's not - "

"If texting and driving is illegal, then shooting and driving is illegal," Dean muttered.

One hellhound threw itself alongside the car, pushing it toward the warehouse wall.

"Get off my baby you bitch!" Dean yelled as he fired the Colt out the driver side window.

The hound yelped as it took the bullet and then fell dead. The other hound rounded to the passenger side, scrapping its claws down the side door -

"Bitches!" Dean yelled as the Impala crashed through the makeshift door he didn't have time to pop open. "Baby's gonna get a new detail once this is all over - "

"Dean, the glasses - " Sam said as he took the Colt.

Dean handed over his x-ray specs to his brother.

"Slow down," Sam said.

"What?"

"That's a hellhound, and it's got our scent," Sam replied. "It'll hunt us forever unless we take it out now."

Dean hated the idea, but he slammed on the breaks. "Fine! But you better take Fido out - "

Bang-yelp! The sounds echoed together. Dean didn't realize his brother had time to aim or make the shot.

"You looked like shit this morning," Dean said. "Now you're a sharp-shooter. What the hell?"

"I can't explain it," Sam replied. "Just getting on track, figuring this out, makes me feel... stronger. Like it's a cure, almost."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, uh, can we go home now?" Sam asked.

* * *

Ellie was a terrible house guest. Or maybe she was a good one. Castiel wasn't sure. In the four hours they were alone, she organized and scrubbed the kitchen. She cleaned the war room and tidied the entryway. At the same time, she made Castiel feel very uncomfortable with her questions about Dean and Sam.

"You're friends with the brothers?" she asked.

"I consider them family," Castiel replied.

"What do you think about Dean?" she asked next.

"He's a good man," the angel said. He didn't like the way she asked the question, as if she meant something more. "Why do you ask?"

"I met him as a guy who wanted to work as a farmhand, found he could muck pretty well and really could handle his meat," she replied.

"I've never seen him do either of those things," Cas admitted.

"Uh huh," she replied. "You're different."

"I'm an angel."

She laughed. "Right, sure."

Ellie was joking with him. She'd never met a celestial being before and wasn't sure how to handle it. Cas didn't know that, so Ellie made him feel more awkward than usual.

By the time Dean and Sam pounded on the door, the angel literally ran to let them in.

"You okay Cas?" Dean said as he pushed his brother into the Bunker.

"To be honest, I feel very uncomfortable," Cas admitted.

Sam stumbled toward the kitchen.

"Something happen?" Dean asked. There was something in his voice, and it inspired hope in Castiel. Was it jealousy?

"Ellie has been asking me questions."

"And you don't get her," Dean said smiling widely. "She confused the crap out of you, didn't she?"

Cas tilted his head. "You knew that would happen?"

"No," Dean said casually.

"A warning would have been polite," Cas bickered.

Ellie caught the tail end of their conversation as she approached. She didn't mean to eavesdrop. But she saw the way Dean looked at this other man, or angel, whatever he was, and curiosity got the better of her.

"Oh, sorry, just, uh, Sam sent me to get you," she said.

"Right, let's go Cas," Dean said as he followed her into the bunker.


	14. Look at What

**Chapter Fourteen  
Look at What  
**

Naomi stood with her brothers and sisters as high orders came down from the celestial chain of command.

"Elizabeth, take the Advanced Guard," the archangel ordered. "Abigail, you'll be leading the battalion. Lydia will take First Company with platoon leaders Bartholomew and Nicholas. Joanna, Second Company with platoon leaders Xavier and Nathan. Daniel, Third Company with platoon leaders Timothy and Judith."

As their names were called, the angels disappeared, each with their platoons, companies, battalions, guards. Naomi watched as her brothers and sisters vanished.

The Garrison that watched over the Earth had been obliterated. The soldiers they sent out now had less experience on Earth, and Naomi had known each one of them for a very long time. Maybe that was why her heart felt heavy as she watched her brothers and sisters depart from Heaven.

"Naomi," the archangel approached her. She hadn't realized that only five angels remained.

"You are to run Intelligence Operations with Calcifer and Noah as your seconds and Uriah and Gideon as your primaries."

"Me?" Naomi asked. She was the only angel to question her assignment, but it had nothing to do with the orders. "I'm - I will."

"You've been leading the charge for a long time without tiring," the archangel continued. "Time has stiffened your resolve. Our Intelligence Operations have expanded considerably and without additional support, yet you still did well. You will continue in your mission with the support you should have had years ago."

"Thank you," Naomi said.

She returned to her office.

Gideon entered almost immediately.

"Three platoons have struck."

"Casualties?"

"None."

"None?" Naomi asked.

"They decimated the demons without incident. And recovered several angel blades in the process."

"Good, keep me updated."

* * *

"I've found something," Cas said.

Dean slept awkwardly on the couch. Ellie had conked out on a large armchair hours ago. Only Sam and the angel remained awake, digging through the dozens of books before them.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"A spell, it does what you described - "

Sam grabbed the book and stared at it intently. "It says the same thing: the amount of energy required burns away human bodies."

"That's never going to change," said the angel. "You can't do it with less energy."

"So you're saying the trial is impossible?"

"No, I'm saying you can't do it with less energy, so you need to focus on other elements."

"Like what?" Sam asked.

"Protecting the body, shielding it somehow," Cas said.

Sam took a moment. He asked again, "What if we took her soul out of her body?"

"Then the energy would burn away your body," Cas replied.

"Okay, in that case, what I'd need is a way to shield my own body," Sam said.

"And of course methods to remove the soul and put it back in," Cas reminded him.

"It's happened to me!"

Cas looked slightly embarrassed. "That was an accident."

"I know that, Cas, I do," Sam said. Normally he would take more time to explain things to the angel, but right now he didn't have the time. "My point is, we both know it can happen. So we can figure it out."

"You should sleep, you look horrible," Cas stated.

"I can't sleep."

"Yes you can."

"What?"

"Go lie down."

"Cas - "

"I'll find out the rest by the time you wake up, go lie down. You'll fall asleep. Trust me."

Sam recognized those last two words. He should have expected this after their chat in the Impala. Castiel needed to know if Sam really forgave him, really trusted him. The only way to know for certain would be to put that trust to the test.

So Sam replied, "Okay."

Sam made his way to his bedroom, unknowingly followed by an invisible Castiel. What Sam thought to be a test of trust was, in fact, a gift to Dean. As soon as the younger Winchester's head touched his pillow, Cas touched his forehead and sent him into a deep, restful sleep. At the very least, his complexion could be restored overnight.

* * *

Wier and Avery approached with matching injuries: black and blue with red bubbling out of their faces.

"You should get cleaned up before reporting," Crowley barked. "Your meat suits are bleeding all over the carpet."

"Sorry, sir, but we needed to report right away," Avery began.

"Our ground troops are all wiped out," Wier interrupted.

"Sorry, say that again?" Crowley said dangerously.

"The angels have organized a massive army," Avery began. "The only way I managed to salvage a dozen of our best Deal Makers was to throw - "

"He discarded dozens of angel blades!" Wier yelled. "Just threw them away!"

"Avery, darling, please tell me you didn't waste our entire angel blade stock on that little tussle," the King said. "Because I remember specifically ordering you to lock them up until I said otherwise."

"Yes, sir, you did, but - " Avery began.

Crowley's eyes connected with Wier, who nodded. Before Avery could continue, Wier wrapped a long chain around his neck and dropped him to his knees.

"I think it goes without saying, but your position has been terminated at this time," Crowley said right before Wier decapitated him.

No black smoke. No re-attachment of the head. The meat suit remained broken on the floor.

"The RD folks whipped this together for our angelic buddies, but it apparently works on demons as well," Wier said quietly. "Made from the melted remains of broken angel blades."

With the stiff diligence of a solider, Wier presented Crowley with the chain as if it were a new sword. He added, "Sorry about the carpet."

"Don't worry about that, love," Crowley said. "Just fill me in on the status of the armory."

"The idiot did drop about three dozen angel blades to save his own skin," Wier said. "We've about ten left."

"Ten? That can't be right."

"RD used their entire supply already," said Wier.

"The one time they're actually on schedule with their work!" Crowley mused. "Fine. What else?"

"Full retreat. All our forces are locked up and pissed off."

"So we need our angelic friends to withdraw," Crowley said quietly. "Where are we on that?"

"On schedule, sir."

"Excellent. Now all I need is a new carpet!"

* * *

Sam's cough made every muscle tighten in Dean. Castiel's collection of archaic knowledge harmonized awkwardly with the Men of Letter's collection of notes, journals, and books, but they managed to gather enough pieces to put together a rudimentary map.

"Sam, shielding your body from this is like protecting it from a small nuclear explosion an arm's length away," Dean cut in. "There's nothing here to do that."

"There has to be something!" Sam growled, grabbing his head.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine!"

"Wait a minute. Henry's closet-journey!" Dean said as his eyes slipped over his dad's old journal, which originally belonged to his grandfather.

"Time travel? How will that help?"

"No, I mean how he did it," Dean said, pulling Sam around in his chair. "He tapped the energy of his own soul."

"You understand the problem is with how much energy, not about where the energy is coming from?" Cas commented.

"Yes, Cas, but if Sam can tap his own soul for some juice, and tap Ellie's for a little more, then maybe he can zap the mark off her without biting it or killing her," Dean said, stumbling over his words a bit.

Sam nodded in agreement, "If I take half the energy from my soul, and half from hers, then we should both survive."

"You wouldn't be able to do it here," Cas said. "That amount of energy would cause a number of issues with the magical defenses of this place."

"Like what?"

"Obliterating them, for one thing," Cas said mildly.

"Awesome."

"The bigger issue is that I don't know how to do it," Sam admitted. "Tap my own soul."

"And it will render you comatose," the angel said. "As well as Ellie."

"Aren't you a ray of sunshine," Dean said.

"What I mean," Cas began, "is that perhaps it's not his own soul he should tap. It's dangerous and harder to control than tapping someone else's."

"You mean like mine?" Dean asked.

"Unless you have another suggestion," Cas replied as he took one of Dean's phones.

"What are you - "

"I'm calling that Garth person," the angel replied.

"Why?"

"We can't do this in the bunker," Cas said. "He is the only living person you know that would be able to provide another location."

"Give me that," Dean said snatching the phone out of Cas's hand. "I'll call Garth. You need to teach Sam the soul-tapping-thing."

* * *

Castiel prepared the cabin basement with layers of warding magic, defensive shielding, and even corner blessings. They needed everything.

Sam's competence was frightening. He had mastered tapping his own soul almost immediately, and he had no difficulty tapping into his brother's either. If they had time, Cas would have taught Sam a number of other, simpler spells, but his illness continued on a steady progression. There was no time for partial lessons.

"Is the basement ready?" Sam asked as the angel returned to the living room.

"It is."

"Okay, then you should go get Dean and Ellie."

"Me?" Cas repeated. "Dean will be unhappy you let me drive the car."

"It's an eight hour drive in each direction, and I need to prepare. And some rest."

"You need time alone with yourself," Cas observed. "I understand."

* * *

The angel wasn't worried about Dean's response to him driving the Impala, but the idea of being alone with his thoughts - no, his emotions - was unpleasant to say the least. It was so easy to drift into the temptation, lose himself in daydreaming about Dean.

At least with Sam or Ellie present he had been forced to make conversation. It took his mind - and more importantly, his vessel's body - away from the alluring memories that filled up his mind any time he was still.

Castiel did not feel embarrassed or ashamed about his attraction to Dean. Having been uprooted from his emotions for months, the sensation was more than desirable; it was required. _This_ was why free will was so important. His vessel's physical reaction to Castiel's feelings for Dean was perfectly natural.

But while he knew no shame for the physical reaction, he had little experience with his own sexuality, as angels didn't have sexes.

He didn't have time to learn anything right now. Angels, monsters, and demons were out in full force, preparing for a glorious final battle. He and the Winchesters were the centerpiece, and the center must hold fast, even in a turbulent storm.

He fixed his attire and left the cabin, his focus on the dire tasks ahead and only mildly distracted by the titillating thought of Dean.

* * *

Dean and Ellie packed up a number of odds and ends in the bunker.

"We've got like ten bags, are you sure - " she started.

Dean cut her off. "Trust me, we'll need it. This is dangerous enough. We need contingency plans for, well, pretty much everything. Uncharted territory."

"Normally I would make a snide comment," Ellie said. "But you're saving me from an eternity in Hell, one way or the other."

"One way or the other?"

"If this kills me, my soul will - "

"Whoa, we're not killing you," Dean cut in. "You are not going to die. That's why we're taking all this stuff."

"But, Dean - "

"No buts, no questions, nada," Dean corrected. "You are going to be fine. You understand?"

"Yeah, sure."

Dean's phone rang.

"Sam?" Dean said into the phone. "You guys ready for us?"

"Uh, yeah, didn't Cas tell you?" Sam asked. "He should've gotten there like four hours ago."

"What?"

"I sent him to pick you up, but I haven't been able to get him on the phone - "

"Sorry, what?" Dean asked. "He took my car, and now he's missing?"


	15. Turnaround and Around and Around

**Chapter Fifteen  
Turnaround and Around and Around**

Gideon didn't knock. He appeared in the middle of the office without so much as a flutter of wings.

"Ma'am," he said. "Urgent news."

Naomi didn't flinch. "What is it Gideon?"

"Full retreat, but no sign of the Angel Tablet."

"I see."

"And we've captured Castiel."

Naomi's eyes lit up. "Where is he?"

"Your interrogation chamber," Gideon smiled.

* * *

Lachesis never had her own space before. Her sisters had crowded her for their entire lives, but now she had her own laboratory set aside by Crowley himself.

Steam set off a whistling recourse over her most recent distillation. Lachesis had always been fond of chemistry, and nothing satisfied her more than creating a new poison. Her latest project came directly from her own personal venom, so it would be damaging and deadly to demons, Leviathans, and angels.

"You doing okay in here, love?" Crowley asked.

"Better than okay," she said. "Soon there'll be more than enough poison for a full arsenal."

"Good but I'm not here about that."

"You're here to ask about the Tablet," she said sagely.

"You have it?" Crowley asked. "I don't recall - "

"No," Lachesis answered. "Therion took it."

"Sorry, what?"

"Therion - "

"And you didn't stop her?" Crowley demanded.

"Why would I?"

"Why - Why?!" Crowley exploded. "Am I really so surrounded by idiots that you don't know why?! You - "

"Why is all I asked," Lachesis said calmly.

"You let Therion take the Angel Tablet?"

"No, of course not."

"What have we been talking about, again?"

"Therion took the Leviathan Tablet."

"I didn't have the Leviathan Tablet," Crowley said immediately.

"Yes you did. I saw it."

"You can tell them apart?"

"No, not at all, but Kevin can," Lachesis replied. "And the one he had that was all covered in blood? That was the Leviathan Tablet. Therion took that one."

"Sorry?" Crowley said, his brow twitching. "Are you telling me that I never had the Angel Tablet?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I can't tell them apart, only Kevin Tran can - "

"But did he ever see the Angel Tablet?"

"Not before I captured him."

"What about the day he escaped?"

"No," she said.

"Damn it!"

Lachesis continued. "Uh, well, Therion took it for Prophet Bait. That's why I let her, which, if you remember, was your initial question."

"How?" Crowley growled. "How!"

"If you're wondering about Castiel," she said, "Angels captured him hours ago."

"Love, you're very valuable," Crowley began. "But so help me, you've failed to report three major events, and this isn't Wall Street. It's not three failed businesses, whoops, here's a fourth! Come on, I'm drowning with incompetent suckers who have a little smidge of power and go off their freaking rockers!"

"You need to unwind," she replied. "Relax. This is good news."

"Just because you're a Fate doesn't mean you can act like everything's going according to plan when everything is completely bullocks!"

"You know the Winchesters," she said. "What do you think will happen if they find out that angels captured their precious little Castiel?"

"Nothing," Crowley said. "What can they do? If the angels have him in Heaven, it's not like they can just flit up there to get him. They may be enormous pains in the ass, but Heaven's got that at least on them."

"Unless," Lachesis baited.

Crowley bit the hook, "Unless?"

"Another angel were to help them out. Drop them a line on the whole thing," she said. "He'd just need a little, uh, push in the right direction."

"I see. You setting this in motion, then?"

"Only if you want to give me that fourth business to plow directly into the ground."

"Plow away love, plow away!"

* * *

Castiel's vessel bled freely. The restraints technically held him down, but they were unnecessary. Naomi had been excessively ruthless.

"How could you?" she repeated. "You did all this to protect two humans? To hurt Heaven even more?"

Castiel did not respond.

"I actually thought I could help you," she said. "I thought you could be brought back into the fold. But you nearly killed yourself to protect Dean Winchester. Tell me why Castiel."

"Are you asking to see if your newest modifications have erased my understanding?" Cas asked.

"Not your understanding, Castiel, the emotions that've grafted onto your being from the poison of humanity," Naomi said.

"Poison?" Cas repeated. "If I am not mistaken, you still take walks in the garden with one of the archangels. Because of your love for - "

Pain. Noami gripped Cas's neck tightly. "Do not compare the love I have with the bastardization you entertain for a human. You're confused Castiel. That's why you don't know the difference."

Cas laughed. She let go of him and stepped back.

"I'm the one restrained," he said, "and you're the one who's terrified, Naomi. You've been in my head. You know the truth, and you can't forget it."

"You're insane," she said.

"You've already tried to obliterate my emotions," Cas replied. "You failed."

Naomi smiled. "You don't understand. My orders were to fix you, but if I can't, then my orders are to destroy you."

Castiel smiled back at her. "You know that, once you do, your situation will come under review."

"My love is for another angel," Naomi hissed. "Your feelings are an abomination."

Castiel did not respond.

Gideon knocked.

"Enter," Naomi said.

Gideon didn't even glance at Castiel.

"Did you find him?" Naomi asked.

"Metatron fled upon our arrival," Gideon said. "But he had been staying at the location you, uh, retrieved from Castiel."

"Gideon, pull everyone out of the field. Even our advanced scouts," she said.

"But, the Angel Tablet - "

"Is safe," she said.

"What about the secondary guard on the Winchesters?" Gideon asked.

"Them too," Naomi said, sneaking a peek at Castiel's response. She could feel his discomfort elevate to fear. "The Winchesters will be on their own until I can find where he hid the Angel Tablet."

"Yes, ma'am," Gideon said before he bowed out.

"Where is it, Castiel?" Naomi asked. "Is it with the Winchesters?"

Castiel did not respond.

* * *

Dean rolled up to the safe house in the Impala. For a fleeting moment, Sam thought maybe they'd found a very lost Castiel on their way here, but Ellie and Dean came into the house alone.

"Dean?"

"Sam."

"The Impala - "

"GPS led me to her, abandoned at a gas station. The guy almost had her towed!"

"Any sign of Cas?"

"No."

Ellie dropped a bunch of bags on the couch and went out to the car for more.

"What's all this?" Sam said.

"Contingency," Ellie said as she dropped two more bags. "There's just one more."

She ducked out again.

"You think Cas is okay?" Dean asked. "Maybe Kev just gave him a call?"

"I already checked in with Kevin and Garth," Sam admitted. "They haven't seen him."

Silence. Even someone as defensive as Dean could not hide the depth of his current misery.

"Look, we do this Dean, and we finish these trials, the next thing we'll do is find Castiel, all right?" Sam said.

"Yeah, right."

"Dean - "

Ellie returned with the last bag.

"We should really get this stuff downstairs," Dean said before Sam could talk about Cas again. "Come on."

Dean started down the stairs. Before Sam could grab a bag, Ellie got his attention.

"Sam, a minute," Ellie began.

"What is it?"

"I need you to make me a promise."

"Sure, anything."

"Dean doesn't understand. So between us - "

"Between us," Sam agreed.

Ellie said, "If you have to decide between saving my soul and saving my life and leaving me on the hook - "

"Ellie, that's not - "

"Promise me you'll save my soul."

Sam met her eyes and saw there was no discussion. "I promise, but I'm hoping it won't come down to that."

"I don't think it will," she said, "but as recent events have made it clear, sometimes a curve ball is sent your way and you just have to deal. And the last thing I want is for you or Dean to blame yourselves. You've done nothing but help me since the day we met."

"Am I carrying down all the bags? Is that the deal?" Dean asked as he returned from the basement. "Let's move."

* * *

 **Author's Note** : This chapter marks the end of the third episode adapted, originally called 08x23 Turnaround. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far and will check back for future updates.


	16. Build a Wall

**Chapter Sixteen  
Build a Wall**

Ellie screamed, and her voice echoed throughout the barricaded basement of the safe house. Dean's yell joined hers, creating a chaotic chorus that rent Sam's attention. It was all he could do to concentrate on the spell.

All the noise cut out. For a moment, Sam wondered if he'd gone deaf, but then he realized that the clock no longer clicked forward. Time froze, or reversed, or curled up in a ball to cry. Whatever the case may be, Sam Winchester was alone in this moment. His consciousness transcended his body, and his thoughts were free to roam.

The spell was working.

It wasn't a list of Latin words. It wasn't a lit match thrown down. The spell consisted of a strategic application power to Ellie's soul, forcing it to slough off its outer casing then to regenerate a new shell. To reduce the chance of implosion, the individual purging the soul funneled everything into a literal moment in time - a millisecond.

Sam tapped Dean's soul for power, then Ellie's soul, and he felt the entire universe around him. His mind recognized the newness of his consciousness opening as souls pulsated in his hands. The high was maddening and euphoric and filled his blood with a new radiance –

The screaming was back, just for an instant. Then blackness swallowed him whole.

* * *

Castiel's vessel bled copiously; Naomi did not bother to heal injuries as she went. Castiel sustained horrific injuries to his true form, his true self.

Gideon had long been used to the savagery of war. He had even calloused himself towards the nature of torture, though he avoided participating in such things. Yet now, seeing his brother's vessel and true form disfigured so violently, and with so much enjoyment, Gideon questioned his own resolve.

One of the angel's true eyes was obliterated. Naomi had burned and slashed all four of his faces, and she had disfigured every feature of his true-form body. Gideon could sense Castiel's agony by sight alone.

The Angel Tablet had a will of its own; any angel to touch it would have reacted exactly as Castiel had. Did it really incur such horrible wrath?

Gideon swallowed his question.

"Naomi," he said.

"Good news, Gideon," Naomi said. "Castiel did not give the Angel Tablet to the Winchesters. He didn't even tell them where he hid it. He is the only living creature that knows where the tablet is now."

"Excellent. Would you like me to inform the others?"

"Yes, please," Naomi said happily, as if her hands were not covered in Castiel's blood. "Do you have anything to report?"

"Yes," Gideon replied. "The Archangel Metatron is on the move. Permission to go to earth to collect data myself?"

Naomi considered the suggestion, her eyes exploring Castiel's mangled, barely-living body.

"Granted," she said. "But be quick."

Gideon bowed and disappeared.

He was a warrior, but even he had his limits. His movements were careful and precise as he reached out to Matthon, Nathaniel, and the dozen or so other rogue angels that he knew walked the earth. Perhaps one of them would help their lost brother.


	17. No Hiding Place End to End

**Chapter Seventeen  
No Hiding Place End to End**

Sam said the spell, "Kah na ahm darr."

Heat and electricity amped up under his skin. His eyes turned blinding white, then back to their normal hazel. All feelings of malaise disappeared.

Dean pulled his brother up from the floor. Sam spotted Ellie on her back.

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Dean replied, "just sleeping."

"You mean unconscious?"

"No, I mean sleeping," Dean said with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "She got up and told me she needed some water. She drank. She fell asleep."

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, sure, just, let's never do that shit again, okay?"

"Here's hoping."

Sam walked over to Ellie. "Can you give me a hand here Dean?" he asked.

"With what?"

"Moving her upstairs."

"You?"

"Us."

"Sam, yesterday you were coughing up a lung – "

"That was before I completed the third trial," Sam dismissed. "So come on. Let's go."

They carried Ellie up the stairs and placed her on the couch.

"We should probably take her somewhere safe until we've finished everything," Sam suggested. "You think she'd mind sleeping in the back seat?"

"You want to leave right now?" Dean asked. "Seriously? You just rung out my soul, my legs are slowly becoming like jelly."

"I'll drive. We can use Garth's safe house boat. He's moved it to Michigan."

"Sam, what's – "

"The harm in waiting? Let's see. Whoever has Castiel might be figuring out if he's useful or not. If he's not, they'll kill him. If he is, they're probably screwing with his head as we speak. Good enough reason?"

"Fine!" Dean blurted. "But if you crash – "

Sam smiled. "Don't worry, I won't."

"Let's pack up first. Maybe she'll be awake by then," Dean said as he went back downstairs for the bags.

* * *

 **Salt Lake City, Utah.** Metatron appeared in an alley; he scared the resident homeless person, who didn't expect anyone to teleport into his corner.

"Sorry," Metatron said curtly as he marched out to the street. He ducked through a line of people and bunched in at a bus stop, hoping to avoid detection.

Too late. Someone was right behind him. He darted into another odd corner and teleported – but he couldn't. He felt embarrassed and furious at the same time –

"Hey there," a woman said.

Metatron didn't recognize who it was, but she wasn't human.

"Who're you?" he asked. "I'm armed."

"Like a nuclear bomb," Lachesis replied. "Don't worry brother, I'm not here to chase you. I came to warn you that Naomi's got her best bounty hunters on you right now."

"Why would you warn me?" Metatron asked suspiciously.

"Enemy of my enemy," she replied briskly.

"You're an angel?"

Lachesis smiled and ignored his question. She said, "The Winchesters told her about you. Where you were. In exchange for some help on their little adventure."

"The Winchesters? Humans? Why would they talk to Naomi – "

"Because while the Winchesters are human, they're not just people. They're the ones – "

"Doing the trials. I've met one of them."

"He set you up in a safe house?" she asked. "Because that's what he told Naomi. Apparently he needed a few angels on his shoulder and offered you up in trade."

"Why can't I teleport?" Metatron demanded.

"I couldn't very well let you go without telling you what I knew," she replied. With a wave of her hand, she broke the sigil opposite her; Metatron felt his power restore immediately.

"I'll be heading to the Southern hemisphere; I suggested you go somewhere else," she said quietly. "Divide and conquer."

And she vanished.

Metatron focused on resonance. If the Winchesters were doing the trials, he could hone in on them easily enough –

Metatron took evasive action.

* * *

 **Ludington, Michigan**. Garth's very own _Fizzle's Folly_ docked in a sleepy boatyard. The Impala hid a few miles northwest. Dean didn't like it, but it ensured a bit more stealth than parking at the docks.

"I'm not staying here," Ellie repeated.

"It's just until we finish – " Dean began.

"No," Ellie cut him off. "You've done enough for me, you don't need to hide me, too."

Sam tried, "Ellie, demons are gonna be a problem – "

"Until you lock them away," she completed. "That's enough for you to worry about. Me? I'm going to visit my mom."

"Your mom?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, gimme a ride to the bus station?" she asked.

Sam and Dean silently agreed. "Fine, let's go," Dean said.

"I'm gonna stay here," Sam said. "Start on a plan to get Cas back, and a plan to get to the Great Levers Kev mentioned."

"Right," Dean huffed as he headed out with Ellie.

* * *

Sam finished yet another demon bomb from their supply list. He desperately needed Castiel back. They had six demon bombs, which admittedly was more than they'd ever had before, but it wasn't enough to defend against a battalion of demons. Sam was certain Crowley had something up his sleeve, and whatever it was wouldn't be pleasant. They needed an arsenal.

On top of that, Dean's general demeanor in the past day was surly, depressed, and withdrawn, and Sam knew why even if Dean would never admit it.

Suddenly Sam found himself affixed to the wall.

"Hello, Mr. Winchester," Metatron said.

"Who – who're you?" Sam asked.

"We haven't met yet, name's Metatron," the angel replied.

"Metatron, the archangel?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, the guy you drop kicked to Naomi," Metatraon spat.

"What?"

"You're the one completing the trials?" Metatron asked. But it wasn't really a question.

"Yeah, you mind letting me down?"

"Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Tell Naomi where I was!"

"I didn't know where you were!"

Begrudgingly, Metatron let him off the wall.

"What the hell?" Sam complained.

"Someone told Naomi exactly where I was. In a house full of sigils and hex bags and supposedly was completely blocked from demons, monsters, and angels."

"Damn it," Sam muttered. "Naomi must have Cas."

"Cas? Castiel?" Metatron asked.

"He disappeared two days ago, before I completed the third trial. We didn't know – we knew someone captured him. Apparently it was Naomi."

"You're sure?"

"Dean hates Naomi's guts. The only reason he hasn't killed her yet is that he's never had a good chance. He wouldn't tell her anything. I promise."

"You're being truthful. That's generally a bad sign," Metatron said.

"Tell me about it," Sam said as he pulled out his phone. "I'm calling Dean."

* * *

Lachesis popped into the meeting.

"You should really knock, love," Crowley said.

"Sorry, wasn't expecting, uh – " Lachesis began.

"Wier," the demon said.

"Hello, Weir."

"How is our old friend?" Crowley asked her.

"Taking the bait. I've returned for additional instructions," she said.

"Continue with you lovely mind games, doll," the King replied. "Wier and I are plotting the best way to dismember and disfigure the Winchesters."

"You boys get to have all the fun," Lachesis mused before she disappeared.

* * *

 **Grand Rapids, Michigan.** Dean scoped out a recently abandoned storefront and slipped under the roof.

He wanted to deep fry Naomi in holy oil, but more than anything, he wanted Castiel back.

He made quick work of the summoning spell.

A man appeared, surprised and confused.

"Who – you – " he sputtered.

"I'm Dean. Friends with Castiel," Dean said. "You're Nathaniel, right?"

The man nodded.

"We met briefly. You helped Cas," Dean said. "I'm banking on that right now."

"What's going on?" Nathaniel asked.

"I need to spring Castiel," Dean said. "But my brother and I need a ride."

Nathaniel raised his eyebrows, but he didn't say anything for a solid minute, like he was thinking it over.

"Well?" Dean pushed.

"You are the second person to voice concern for Castiel," Nathaniel said. "But the first to offer help in rescuing him."

"Someone filled you in about Cas?" Dean asked, his heart beating faster.

"Yes. Someone who plans on freeing him."

"Freeing him and getting him out of Heaven isn't the same thing, is it?" Dean asked. "Otherwise this other guy wouldn't have reached out to you."

"You are keen," Nathaniel said. "I will give you and your brother a, uh, ride, as you asked. But I warn you, it's dangerous – "

"I don't care," Dean cut him off.

"And you will need to be prepared before we go."

"Fine, let's do that now. And quickly. Cas has already been gone for two days."


	18. Wild Side

**Chapter Eighteen  
Wild Side**

The Winchesters had been to Heaven before, but at the time, they were dead. They had never experienced the area in their living bodies; indeed, Dean hadn't even considered the possibility of a problem arising.

Nathaniel had, though, of course. He prepared Dean with layers of near-blinding light. Sam didn't need to be prepped; the trials had apparently elevated his body to such a state that he could pass into Heaven alive without incident.

So Dean was more than a little wary when the three of them popped into the Garden.

"You must know that the Garden is filled with revelations," Nathaniel whispered. "This makes you exceptionally vulnerable."

"What kind of revelations?" Sam asked.

"Inspiration, soul reflection, anything lost returning to you," Nathaniel said, making less sense by the second. He motioned to his two human companions. He then added, "We must move quickly. The Fountain is at the center of the Garden, and we are far from it now."

"What happens with this revelation crap?" Dean asked.

"You will be vulnerable. Your soul is active but your body is idle."

"Like daydreaming?" Sam asked.

Nathaniel tilted his head, much like Castiel did when he was confused.

"Never mind," Dean said. "Let's go."

Heaven, to a soul, was a malleable entity. To a living body, however, Heaven was a fixed and terrifying jungle. Winds rushed through the foliage like fury; every plant seemed malicious and wiry. The temperature undulated between forty degrees and one hundred degrees Fahrenheit, and the general climate was all knives.

Dean brandished an angel blade.

Sam pointed the way, and Nathaniel nodded.

"You need to use special sigils up here," Nathaniel reminded them.

"Look, you get us to the middle of this garden, Nate, and you zap yourself home, you understand?" Dean said.

"How will you get home?" Nathaniel asked.

"Cas," Sam replied. "He won't leave us high and dry."

Neither Winchester allowed Nathaniel to say that Castiel might be in no shape to escape or that he may not even be alive.

* * *

Naomi's torture chamber had several weak links; not one had ever been exploited before. Castiel identified three modes of egress, but the infernal chair that restrained him –

Click. Click. Click.

As if his own thoughts propelled the release, Castiel's appendages were free. The chair's magic waned, as if someone had flipped a switch.

Cas felt someone nearby. Powerful, definitely high in the hierarchy. Gideon? Calcifer? Uriah? Cas couldn't be sure, but he waited until the prescience moved on before extricating himself from the chair and maneuvering out of the room.

He healed his vessel when he reached the Garden. Enough angels were around to mask his movements, but he wasn't capable of traversing the space between Heaven and Earth. Not yet. He needed someone to guide him.

"Castiel – " a familiar voice crept into his mind. "Castiel. This way."

His heart leapt. It was Joshua; he tended the Garden and had the power to teleport Castiel anywhere.

A rustle of wings. The glint of a blade. Castiel swiftly dodged the plunging weapon and dropped his arm, pinning it to his side. He bled. With a deft palm-heel strike, he threw his assailant away, keeping the weapon tucked under his arm.

Then he ran.

* * *

The trouble with the garden, beyond the spooky plants, was that it had the traffic of Manhattan without the grid pattern. Nathaniel guided them through most of it without issue, since the majority of those in the Garden didn't cast a second glance.

And of course, the number of people in the Garden concealed the use of angelic powers. That was to their benefit.

It happened to Dean first. A certain slant of light captured his eye, and he found himself pulled forward into a place with bleak light, whistling winds, and a sort of harshness that he hadn't seen in a long time.

Dean was in Purgatory.

It was as if he had returned to the memory and stood outside it as an observer, but this wasn't how he remembered it. He felt safe. His body was warm, as if wrapped in a blanket, and his eyes were closed.

Benny was asleep not too far from him. Dean had his fist wrapped around his weapon. Castiel stood watch over him in his dirty institutional cloths.

Cas draped his trench coat over Dean's body. He had been shivering, shaking, cursing, so his angel kept watch and comforted him. Dean didn't remember that. He couldn't remember that, because if he had, getting through the next day, surviving Purgatory, would've been impossible.

Castiel leaned forward and whispered, "I love you."

"Dean."

The echo distracted him from his memory.

"Dean! Dean!" Sam cried.

Sam wasn't in Purgatory during this memory, why –

Dean realized he was absent; so he shook himself awake, violently.

He was standing in Heaven. He replied, "Sam?"

"What's up?" Sam asked.

"Revelation," Dean muttered.

"Something lost has returned to you," Nathaniel nodded. "That's good."

Nathaniel idled. Dean and Sam chomped at the bit.

"There is much more movement than usual," the angel said.

"Isn't Castiel in, you know, Naomi's clutches?" Sam asked. "Shouldn't we be looking for him there?"

"No, he's not. It's all been set in motion," Nathaniel replied, in true cryptic angel form.

"How do you know that?" Dean asked.

Nathaniel did not respond.

* * *

Joshua waited for Castiel. He had occasion once before to meet the other angel and speak with him about their father, and he had enjoyed Castiel's company. Something about him felt so familiar, so true, and so earnest. Joshua wanted to meet him again, to see how he had healed in all his broken places.

Castiel was not far from the Fountain now.

In truth, it was less of a fountain and more of a waterfall, but Joshua remembered either way that the idea of water, of movement and fluidity, being the center of Heaven instead of still, unbreakable Earth was important. So he called the area the Fountain, after his father's wishes despite the misnomer.

* * *

The sigils Nathaniel had given the Winchesters successfully suspended angels, much like forcing humans into sleep. The trouble was, they had to rely on a tag-team trickery to trap the more vigilant angels that spotted them.

Sam had one particularly tall angel tailing him. He ducked under a weedy tree and then swerved toward his brother, who signaled for him to tuck and roll.

Once Sam flipped back onto his feet, his body became heavy. He lifted his eyes up and up –

Sam saw himself standing outside of Bobby's old car yard. This couldn't be a memory he lost, because he remembered this day very well. It was the night after Dean and Cas disappeared with an exploding Dick Roman. He'd fled Chicago with a very busted Impala and laid low with Sheriff Mills in South Dakota as he repaired it.

"I don't know if anyone can hear me," Sam said to a sky full of stars, "but if there are any angels in hiding from the Garrison. Or any angels up there, this is about the Prophet, Kevin Tran. He's been kidnapped by Crowley, the King of Hell."

There was no response. Sam's entire body was lead.

"Dick Roman is dead, by the way. The big Leviathan leader. He's gone. But Kevin's been taken, and I can't help him anymore," Sam spoke up to the sky. "I can't help anybody anymore."

Sam watched himself speak to the sky. This was right before he hit the dog, right before he met Amelia.

No response. For all Sam knew, no one was listening.

"Screw you!" Sam yelled up to Heaven. "You and your big missions, your civil war, your apocalypse. My life was just – fine! Fine! Before you showed up! And now Dean's gone. Cas is gone! And your Prophet is gone! Because you can't do your damn jobs!"

Living this moment was one thing, watching the replay was too much. He wanted to stop it, but he couldn't. This wasn't a dream, after all. What was it?

"The Leviathan were never meant to return to Earth," a woman spoke. "My name is Naomi," she said. "And you are Sam Winchester."

Naomi? That couldn't be right. Sam hadn't met her, he only knew her from Dean's description.

"Naomi? Are you an angel?" he asked.

"Yes, and to be clear, we haven't responded to you yet because of your ribs. The sigils on them prevent us from being able to locate you, and you haven't slept. So how did you expect us to answer you?"

"You're angels," Sam replied quickly, making no attempt to hide his annoyance. "Angels. That's how."

"We're not omniscient or invincible, as you know," Naomi said. "And we have lost much of our family in the last few years. Between you and your brother and Castiel – "

"Cas died taking out Dick Roman. He died to protect Kevin Tran, the Prophet. He died with my brother," Sam replied. "You wanna play the blame game, Naomi, or save the Prophet?"

"I have already sent aid to the Prophet. He will be fine."

"Thank you," Sam said as he turned away.

"Sam Winchester," she said. He stopped. "I didn't come here to make you feel better."

He turned to face her. "Then why are you here?"

He blinked, and then he was in a too-white room latched to a chair.

"Your brother might be in the wind, as you say," Naomi began. "But we have you now."

"What does that even mean?" Sam asked, jerking against the restraints.

"It means that we've got a plan for you," Naomi said. "And this time, you're going to follow it."

"Like I did last time?" Sam baited.

"No, not at all," she replied. "We're going to start with you forgetting all about Kevin Tran. And Dean Winchester. And Castiel. It's all out of your hands, Sam, all right? Now it's time for you to have a taste of the life you've longed for. All that is required is a few – adjustments."

Sam struggled against the chair, but his body compressed against the restraints. He looked at Naomi and said, "You know, Zachariah tried this on me – "

"Oh, I assure you, whatever he did, he never tried this," she replied. "Otherwise we wouldn't be here."

"What're you – "

"Don't worry," Naomi said. "Soon you'll find what you've always wanted. A normal life."

She picked up some kind of drill, and the sound of it echoed hugely in his mind -

"Sammy!" Dean's voice echoed throughout his head, dampening the whine of the drill. "Sam!"

His eyes opened, which was strange because Sam didn't realize he had shut them. He was crouched over with Dean in his face.

Anger churned inside of him. Naomi had messed with his head. She coordinated his meeting with Amelia. She striped away the parts of Sam that were ready to search for Dean –

Golden-white liquid dripped from Sam's eyes. Maybe that was because he was in Heaven, or maybe whatever Naomi put into his brain was now oozing back out.

"She screwed with my head," Sam said as he captured the golden-white tears in his hands.

"Naomi?" Nathaniel asked.

"Yes, she – she – " Sam tried to speak.

Dean pulled his brother to his feet. "Sammy, trust me, we'll hash this out later, okay? Right now, we need to focus on Cas. Make sure Nate gets out of here. And that angel we trapped, he's gonna be missed, so – "

Sam remembered. They had a mission here, and it had nothing to do with revelation.

Someone tackled Dean, throwing him into Sam. Nathaniel parried the assailant, doubtless another angel, and bucked him into the trap along with the tall angel.

"Quickly," Nathaniel spoke as he grabbed the Winchesters by their shoulders.

* * *

Castiel closed in on the Fountain, the center of the Garden.

"Castiel," Joshua said out loud. "Welcome home."

The other angel continued to bleed generously, and it was clear his vessel was as gravely wounded as his true-form. Joshua reached out to heal him.

"Stop," Naomi spoke.

"I do not take orders from you, Naomi," Joshua replied.

Several angels flanked Naomi. She signaled, and they set upon Castiel as she knocked Joshua down to the ground, unconscious. Joshua was powerful, but he never was a warrior.

"Castiel, your escape from custody only makes your execution more just," Naomi said as they closed in on him.

* * *

The screaming indicated that they were near Castiel.

"Nate, time for you to scram," Dean said.

"But, Castiel – "

"Go. Now," Sam said backing his brother up.

Nathaniel nodded and teleported away.

Dean motioned for Sam to take the right flank, and they moved in, knowing they were outnumbered. But by the time they cleared the creepy plants and reached the area of the Fountain, no one was around.

Joshua lay unconscious yards from another body, savaged and disfigured. His blood seeped into the Fountain of the Garden. Dean wondered if all the water up here would turn red from it.

With that thought seared into his mind, he rushed over to the body he knew to be Cas's. Sam, however, stopped in his tracks, frozen by the sight of Castiel's corpse.

Dean dropped to the ground and rolled Cas over. He pulled the angel into his arms and lap and checked for breathing. He checked for a pulse. He checked for any sign at all that his Castiel was alive. The vessel was cold, and Dean slowly lost his heat to the numbness welling up his spine.

Naomi appeared next to Sam, her anger unhidden –

Sam had already stowed his blade. He reached his hand out to her shoulder, a sign to stand down. What was left to fight for?

He whispered to her, "Give him a minute."

Naomi holstered her surprise when she caught sight of Dean's visceral reaction to Castiel's spilled vessel. He entire body seemed to wring together. He placed his forehead on Cas's, his face screwed against the emotions threatening to spill out of him.

She had spent a substantial amount of time amassing information on the Winchesters. She knew they fought hard and that Castiel was forever loyal to them and their cause. But she never expected to see Dean Winchester mourn the loss of Castiel; she thought his response would be fury and explosion and violence.

Instead, he subtly imploded with depression clinging to his every feature. Naomi had never expected to see Dean Winchester defeated. Yet, here he was, openly grieving the loss of an angel, of all things.

Was it possible that Dean reciprocated Castiel's feelings? It seemed preposterous to her.

After several heartbeats that extended into infinity, Sam spoke, "Let us take his remains."

"You mean the human vessel?" Naomi asked in a whisper.

"Yes," Sam said.

"You need to leave – " Naomi began.

Some kind of hot, blazing angel arrow spun through two of the flanking members of her party. Naomi turned, her fury rekindled, but the new arrival moved first, pressing Naomi into the ground next to Joshua and knocking her unconscious.

Sam's eyes swept over her. The woman, who Sam assumed was an angel, was dark skinned with amber-colored eyes. The angel's vessel was small in every way: short, petite, and beautifully delicate.

That's all that Sam had time to render before she gently placed a finger on his forehead. He suddenly found himself back in the Impala.

Dean noticed none of this. It wasn't until Sam disappeared that he even looked up to see the new arrival.

He didn't care. He didn't care about the angel posse closing in on him. He didn't care that a tiny Spice Girl angel handed them their asses and tossed their unconscious bodies into the awkward plants. He watched without really looking –

She stood in front of him, and Dean's eyes met the amber-colored hue of the angel's. Her expression was sympathetic but oddly blank. She seemed so _familiar_.

Cynicism told Dean it was just wishful thinking, but he _recognized_ this angel. Beyond the skin, beyond the vessel, he could see –

"Cas? Is that you?" Dean asked.

A smile spread across the angel's face. If doubt existed before, the smile obliterated it. It was Castiel.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said. Even in a female vessel, the voice sounded just like Castiel's always did. She leaned down and whispered, "Shut your eyes."

Assuming a moment of blinding angel-ness was soon to come, Dean obliged.

Cas healed Jimmy, the broken vessel, with a touch of his index finger. Cas saw Dean's injuries, most of which were minor, but he could tell that his soul ached. Clearly, Sam had completed the third trial.

Castiel leaned in and placed a long, slow kiss on Dean's lips, healing the Hunter completely. The angel was unsurprised when Dean kissed back, reaching up to pull Cas into a deeper, more intimate kiss. Then –

Castiel's lips pulled away.

Dean opened his eyes and found himself behind the wheel of the Impala. Jimmy Novak's unconscious body was in the back seat, and Sam was pacing outside the car, cursing into his cell phone.

"Cas?" Dean said, but he received no response.


	19. Nowhere

**Chapter Nineteen  
Nowhere**

A nurse began, "Before you go, Mr. Smith, this other paper work needs to be filled out – "

"Yeah, all right," Sam said, taking the clipboard.

"Of course, we'll let the doctors know," the nurse replied. She left the brothers with the unconscious body of Jimmy Novak.

"What the hell?" Dean asked.

"Cas is gonna pop back into this body," Sam said. "But we need to keep it alive since Jimmy has obviously checked out."

Dean cocked his head. "You think?"

"This body is brain dead," Sam whispered. "What do you think?"

Dean never really considered Jimmy Novak. Not since Cas took his body as a vessel for the second time.

"Can angels do that? Take a vessel that's checked out?"

"Why else would Cas send him back?" Sam asked.

"Why would Cas take a new vessel?" Dean asked.

Sam shifted his weight. Dean honed in on his brother's uncomfortable movements.

"Hey shifty," Dean said, "what's up?"

"Nathaniel mentioned something to me, after I had that memory come back to me about Naomi," Sam said.

"You said she screwed with your head," Dean said.

"She screwed with my will, my personality, my life," Sam replied. "Like she did with Cas."

"Is that what that gold stuff was coming out of your eyes?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded. "Nathaniel said the only way for an angel to free himself completely from Naomi's tampering was to leave his vessel and heal it himself," Sam said dully. "Looks like Cas finally managed his escape."

Dean looked at his brother with concern. "Sorry, but, uh, when the hell did he tell you this?"

Sam didn't answer. So Dean stared at the man in the hospital bed. He looked tiny with all those machines and tubes around him.

"I don't want to leave him here," Dean muttered.

"I know, but if we leave him at the bunker, Cas won't be able to get in."

Dean swallowed his pride and asked, "You said she messed with your head?"

"Yeah."

"What do you mean?"

Sam didn't answer.

"Is that why you didn't look for me when I was in Purgatory?" Dean asked.

"She made me helpless," Sam said. "Not feel helpless. Not seem helpless. She took my brain and roped off everything I had. You and Cas were gone. Bobby was gone. And – "

"Then you hit a dog," Dean continued. "And you finally had something in front of you that you could do. Take care of a pet, save its life."

Sam nodded.

Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "I gave you a lot of shit about that."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't know."

"Neither did you," Dean said. Then he suggested, "How about this? We kick Crowley's ass, then we find Naomi and deep fry her."

Sam smiled. "I'll settle for locking the gates for now. And getting Cas back."

"All right, let's kick it in the ass."

* * *

 **Ludington, Michigan**. Metatron paced the interior of the tiny ship cabin. He thought the cottage they set him up in was grim, but this topped that by a hundred times. According to the Winchesters, the Prophet lived here for months.

Much had changed since he went into hiding.

The door swung open.

"Where is Castiel?" Metatron asked.

"He's alive, but he had to take a new vessel," Dean replied.

"Well, I should warn you, the angel that told me about your betrayal – "

Sam interrupted, "The angel who lied to you – "

"Wasn't an angel," Metatron cut him off. "I tracked her down to see what she was up to. Turns out, she's one of the Fates. I've bound her, not sure how long it'll last. Maybe a few days."

"Sorry, one of the Fates tracked you down and lied to you?" Dean asked.

"She's working with Crowley," Metatron said, annoyed at the fumbling idiocy of the two humans attempting to shut the gates of hell. "And she told me a few other things."

"I like where this is going," Dean said happily.

"No, you don't."

"Why not?" Sam asked.

"Naomi thinks her forces crushed the demonic soldiers on Earth," Metatron began. "She's very wrong. And you can't go around them."

"You're an archangel. Why don't you just come with us and do that nuclear angel-light thing?" Dean asked.

"No," Sam said.

"No?"

"We can't risk Metatron's involvement," Sam said. "Someone needs to look after Kevin."

"We've got – " Dean began.

"None of them are archangels," Sam cut his brother off.

"True."

"So, you wanna know what they've got planned?" Metatron asked.

"Everything you can tell us," Sam said earnestly.

* * *

 **Heaven**. Naomi and Gideon waited at the threshold of her office.

"How many have returned?" she asked him.

"Most of the scouts have come back to Heaven. All of the cupids," Gideon replied. "There are still the advanced guardians out in play."

"And what about those searching for Castiel?"

"None of them, yet," he said.

"I need you to reassign them," Naomi said. "Tell them to focus on Matthon, Nathaniel – "

"The other rogue angels?" Gideon asked curiously.

"Yes," Naomi said. "And Metatron. New orders: while the Winchesters attempt to shut the gates, we ignore Castiel."

"And if they succeed?"

"Whether they succeed or fail," Naomi said, "as soon as this is over, Castiel is marked for death."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

A young woman entered the hospital, ignoring everyone she walked by. Several nurses and orderlies approached her, but she did not respond. She went directly to the newly admitted, brain-dead man on life support.

Two nurses, Zack and Jenny, surged forward to stop her, but the woman reached up and touched her fingers to Zack's forehead. He fell down, asleep, but Jenny and the other medical staff members thought he had collapsed. They swarmed around Zack, trying to help him.

The young woman thus continued, shutting the curtains around Jimmy Novak's vacant body. After a few moments, a light blazed up for several seconds. The woman glowed so white that the curtains seemed like lampshades. That whiteness moved from her body to his, and the man sat up in bed, his blue eyes clear and crystal.

Every electronic nearby went haywire, sending the hospital staff into a frenzy of action. The wires and the tubes dropped away from the Jimmy Novak's body, and he stood up, whole and awake. The girl, on the other hand, seemed ill and weak.

Castiel oriented himself inside his original vessel. Jimmy Novak's body was familiar in a way that the angel hadn't expected.

With that, Cas touched the young woman's arm, and warm healing spread to every inch of her body.

"I owe you a debt," Castiel whispered to her. "I hope to repay it some day."

"You can," she said.

Castiel tilted his head.

"Drop me home," she said. "Then we'll call it even."

"But – "

"I mean it, Castiel."


	20. Can't Get Away with No Hiding Place

**Chapter Twenty  
Can't Get Away with No Hiding Place**

 **Lebanon, Kansas**. Garth waited with the Winchesters, a little confused about what was going on. A woman in a beat up yellow bug pulled up next to his car.

"Charlie," Dean said happily.

"What's up bitches?" she said by way of greeting. She hugged Dean, then Sam.

"Charlie, this is Garth," Dean said. "Garth, Charlie."

"Howdy-do," Garth said. They shook on it.

"You said urgent, which usually means bad," Charlie said. "So, what's up?"

"Sam and I've gotta rough road ahead to seal up hell," Dean began. "It might be one big fight. It might take months."

"And if that's the case, we need someone to keep an eye on things," Sam said.

"You mean like that guy you said's up in my boat now?" Garth asked.

"Yeah, Melville," Dean said, hating the stupid code name Metatron selected. "He can help protect Kevin."

"Okay, then why's he hidin' – "

"It's complicated," Sam said.

"Charlie, we need you to look after this place for us," Dean said, handing off the key.

Garth nodded. "So, what's the skinny?"

"The skinny?" Dean repeated. "What do you mean?"

"On sealing up hell, obviously," Charlie said. "Gilda still owes us a favor, maybe she can help out – "

"Gilda? Who?" Garth asked.

"We're dating," Charlie said happily. "She's a fairy."

"Really? That's great," Sam chimed in.

"No, no, and no," Dean said. "Sam and I have a plan."

"We'll be, like, your secondary unit," Charlie said.

"Yeah, ya might need some backup," Garth pointed out, "on this whole shutting the gates thing."

"Hell no," Dean replied. "We need you guys back here, protecting people, in case things – "

"Listen up," Charlie cut him off. "Either we're your backup and you call us with updates, or we're your backup and we come in when the bugs we plant on you tell us you're in trouble. You're move, bitches."

"Charlie – " Sam protested.

"No," she cut him off. "This isn't something you just go do alone. We're helping. Even if it's just waiting in the wings."

"Hell yeah," Garth replied. "Chances are, you'll need some help with travel. You might git hurt, need someone to carry you home."

"Fine!" Dean exclaimed.

Castiel appeared suddenly. Sam and Dean were unsurprised, but Charlie and Garth both jumped.

There was a long, drawn-out moment as Castiel and Dean stared into each other's eyes, captivated. There was nothing inherently sexual about it, but Charlie quickly cottoned on and followed Sam's lead by looking away. Garth, on the other hand, continued to stare in confusion.

"Charlie, Garth," Sam said to break the tension. "Castiel."

"Hello," Cas said to the others.

"So, what is the plan?" Castiel asked.

* * *

Crowley marshaled forces around a broken, beaten castle in Normandy. It had been abandoned for hundreds of years, mostly because supernatural events constantly flared up and caused mayhem.

It seemed so dignified. Rock and mortar. Blood and bone. Demonic omens, black smoke. Crowley took position overlooking the courtyard ahead of him. Soon the Winchesters would attempt to traverse the space between earth and the plane where the Great Lever stood, and they had to cross this courtyard to do it.

* * *

Sam made up a stupid excuse about setting up a secure walkie-talkie line to draw Charlie and Garth away and let Castiel and Dean have a moment.

Dean felt nervous, ridiculously so, and it had nothing to do with their plans to charge down hell. By Cas's even more stiff than usual demeanor, the angel was also anxious.

"Dean," he said, "I – am unsure how to say this."

"You don't have to," Dean replied. "I mean it, you don't. I, uh, I'm... me, too."

Cas took the hunter's hands in his own and rubbed his thumbs along the back of Dean's palm. Neither one of them could be sure how long they stood there, not speaking any of the words thrashing inside their heads, begging to be released.

"We are going into battle," Castiel said softly, after what felt like eons. "I want all three of us to survive."

"Me, too," was all Dean could think to say.

* * *

Sam and Dean loaded up supplies and tucked things away in pockets. They couldn't carry their large duffel bags; they wouldn't have a lot of wiggle room.

"These pendants should protect and promote healing," Castiel said, returning with two very long, very ugly necklaces.

Dean dropped his around his neck.

"No," Cas said. "You wear them around your waist."

"Hell no," Dean protested.

"It's easier for an enemy to cut them off if – "

"No!" Dean barked.

Sam had no trouble wrapping the necklace around his waist and tucking it into his pants. Why not? They needed everything they had now.

"These are also for you," Castiel said, handing off angel blades to both of them.

"What about spray paint? For sigils?"

Castiel showed the four canisters in his pockets. "I'll handle putting them up."

Dean handed off a stencil of a sigil designed specifically for powering-down demons. "Just put this down and spray over the whole thing. Makes it go faster," he explained.

"Thank you," Cas said.

"What else?" Sam asked.

"We have one more stop," Castiel said, "in Portugal."

"What? Why?"

"There is a site that produces very special, very powerful holy water," Castiel said. "It receives its essence from the – "

"Cliff notes version, Cas," Dean said.

"What?"

"How is it powerful?" Sam asked.

"It possesses special properties. It drives demons out of their possessed bodies and back to hell. Normally this feat is considered minor, since you have the means to kill demons – "

"But now we're locking the gate on them," Dean nodded, not quite finishing his thought. "Great, let's go grab some."

Castiel nodded and touched their foreheads. Suddenly, they were outside a small, unremarkable creek.

"This is it?" Sam asked.

"Yes, it is," Cas said as he began to fill a flask.

"Figured you'd show up here," someone said.

Dean and Sam both drew their blades.

"Oh, there's no need for that," the same someone said.

"Who the hell are you?"

"James," he said. "And believe it or not, we're here to help you."

"Help us?" Dean asked.

"That's right," James replied.

"Out of the goodness of your hearts?" Sam inquired.

Sam's eyes swept over the people behind him. There were literally dozens of them, an army.

"'Course not," James said. "We're here to help you because it's high time we took our cut out of the King of Hell's hide."

"Sorry? You wanna mess Crowley up?" Dean asked. "Why'd you wait?"

"Last time demons messed with us, they drove some species to the brink," James said.

"Species?" Sam said. "Let me guess, you're a vampire?"

"Smart boy," James said.

"Hell no," Dean griped.

"I believe they're telling the truth," Castiel said. "Those two djinn were captured by Crowley at one point."

"You recognize them?" Dean asked.

"I recognize their scars," Cas said.

They both had long, spidering lines of scar tissue.

"How did you know where to find us?" Sam asked.

"I sent them," Matthon said. The other angel appeared from the crowd and pushed ahead. "Castiel."

Cas and Matthon shared a moment.

"You think you can help transport us?" Cas asked.

"I know I can," Matthon said. "And I'll draw the angels away from your trail."

"Thank you brother," Castiel said.

"So, are we good to go?" Sam asked.

Dean took Castiel's hand in his. Several moments passed by, and all Dean wanted was for them to be done. To be home, together, and alive. That's it. Nothing fancy, nothing huge. But they couldn't drop everything and leave. It was now or never.

Sam smiled at his brother's small sign of affection for Castiel. It was a start at least.

"Ready or not, we've headed into war with worse," Dean said, looking over the monster mash in front of him.

Sam said, "Let's go and take down hell."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** This chapter marks the end of the fourth episode adapted, originally called 08x24 No Hiding Place. The original four-episode arc was written as part of Dean/Cas Big Bang 2013.

I hope you've enjoyed the story so far and will check back for future updates.


	21. Scrambling Home

**Chapter Twenty-One  
Scrambling Home**

Dean Winchester, bloodied and dizzy from the head shot that dropped him cold, woke next to a pile of bodies. On instinct, he assessed the situation as best he could.

'Chaos' failed to capture the true condition of the scene.

Dean was in the middle of a courtyard surrounded by smoldering walls. Fire and stone actually rained down from the south, a byproduct of buildings still in the process of crumbling. Beaten and mangled bodies spattered the ground. He didn't recognize anyone around him.

"Cas! Sammy!" Dean cried out, staggering to his feet. "Sam!"

The rasp in his voice confused him, and the lack of balance just pissed him off. He coughed, then doubled over. Falling to his knees, he saw a sprinkle of his own blood over his hand. He was coughing blood.

The hiss of flame, the rumble of collapsing walls, the devastating screech of the winds knitted a cacophony that could drown out any sound. Yet, he felt words touch his ears, like a close whisper.

 _"Dean? You are alive. Dean... you are alive."_

With all the demons, monsters, witches, spells, and creepy crawly things Dean had killed, he knew better than to trust a disembodied voice, but this time - he didn't know how, since he couldn't really hear enough to identify the voice - this time he knew that the words were from Castiel.

As this revelation dawned on the concussed and collapsed Winchester, he pushed himself to scramble forward. He waded through the corpses, yelling "Cas!" over and over again, occasionally punctuated by a coughing fit.

Dean stumbled over a body and jolted at the sight of a dead werewolf. His head throbbed unnecessarily as memories bubbled up.

They departed on this mission as a trio, leaving the prophet Kevin Tran and his mother in the care of a swarm of hunters rounded up by Garth. Yet for whatever reason - monster mash meet up, chain letters, or creepily expedient gossip - monsters learned about the Last Winchester Stand against Hell, and the trio found themselves in odd company.

The mod squad consisted of a little bit of everything: werewolves, shape-shifters, ghouls, skin-walkers, arachnes, djinns, and vampires. They were ready for a chance to retaliate against Crowley for his little quest for Purgatory, when he killed off alpha after alpha and crippled monster populations everywhere.

As far as Dean could tell, every monster that accompanied them was now dead.

Dean felt too weak to stand, so he crawled instead. Cas was here, he knew it.

Again, words hovered close to his ear, and Dean turned his head to listen better, _"Dean, I'm so sorry. Dean. I'm..."_

The signature trench coat caught Dean's eye. Castiel was there, under a pile of vampires and werewolves who had apparently come to his aid during the fray. Scrambling, half-crawling, half-running, Dean collapsed next to the angel, pulling bodies off him.

Dean had seen plenty of heinous injuries, but none of them prepared him to see the angel in his present state. His entire right side was swollen and bruised from a horrific beating, which seemed like nothing when compared to the multiple stab wounds that had only partially healed.

Dean pulled Castiel's head into his lap.

"Cas, man, I'm here, okay? You're gonna be okay? Okay? Cas? Damnit! Cas!"

His voice echoed hugely throughout the courtyard.

The angel opened his one good eye and smiled with the good half of his face.

"Hello, Dean," he said before his eye fluttered shut.

"Cas, you gotta hold on, okay?"

Cas pushed his eye open again, trying to fixate on Dean, but the weakness was spreading.

There was a moment, when the swirling abyss around them suddenly became a wilted flower. The air cleared. Simplicity set in, and Castiel and Dean were the only things in all the universe.

Some would attribute this moment to the amazing power of love; however, in this instance, it was attributed to a combination of air pollutants from the smoking rubble and a solid pair of head injuries.

"Listen to me, you angelic bastard. You made me watch you die after the Leviathan took you over. Then you made me leave you behind in Purgatory as that portal ripped me away, and the guilt from that nearly killed me. You can't make me leave you again. You can't make me watch you die again. You understand me, you bastard? You can't do this to me."

Dean felt helpless as Cas's good eye drifted shut.

"Cas? Don't close your eyes. Look at me," Dean brought his face as close as possible. "Look at me. Stay with me."

"I've been poisoned. I'm dying, Dean..."

"Shut up," he whispered back. "Just, look at me, Cas. Stay with me. I need you... to stay with me. You hear me? I. Need. You."

A firecracker lit up Castiel's chest cavity. The words 'I need you' from Dean Winchester were rare, and his desperation jolted Cas even more. Of all the things he could've said, 'I need you' shook Cas awake. His entire body vibrated with pain. Each heartbeat intensified his agony, but Dean held him and demanded to be seen. So Castiel stared into his green eyes, unsure of how much longer his body would hold out.

"Dean," Castiel pressed, "I..."

Dean made a soothing noise that the angel recognized as a sign to be quiet.

Sam ran into the courtyard, shouting, "Dean!"

"Sam?" Dean looked up at his brother, genuinely surprised. "You're alive?"

"Better," he replied. "I did it. The Gates, they're closed."

"You - you closed the Gates of Hell?" Dean asked. "And you're alive?"

Sam nodded, and before he could respond, Cas turned to him, "Take Dean and go. Please - "

Dean cut him off, "You shut up you sonova bitch, shut up and rest, because we're not leaving you here to die."

"Think about..." Cas huffed, "...the Impala."

"What?" Sam and Dean replied simultaneously.

"Think about the Impala," the angel said. "And take my hand."

The brothers exchanged looks of utter confusion. Castiel seeped exasperation as he continued, "I might be able to get there if you both concentrate on the Impala."

Dean pulled the angel up, almost into a sitting position, and Sam reached out and took Cas's good hand. Together they concentrated on the Impala, which they chose to park in a particularly shady, well-hidden place off I-5.

Suddenly, all three whisked away, and just as abruptly, they were dropped on their asses by the car.

"Way to stick the landing, there, Cas," Dean joked.

Sam was less amused, mostly because he was unconscious, having smashed into a tree.

"My apologies," Cas whispered. "It's harder to do with passengers and when dying."

"Shut up," Dean said. "Okay? Just hold on a little longer."

After checking Sam's pulse, Dean made it to walkie stowed in the car door.

"Charlie? Garth? We - we made it out. But, uh, none of us can really drive so we'll need a pick up."

"You're alive?" came Garth's voice. "Hallelujah!"

"We'll be there for pickup in twenty, roger?" Charlie's voice came next.

"Charlie, you still got that favor due from Gilda?" Dean asked.

"Totally," she replied. "Fairies are big on repayment for things like saving their lives and freeing them from total d-bags."

"Any chance you'd be willing to cash it in? Cas is outa angel mojo, and he ain't looking too good - "

" - I'm on it. Over!" she replied.

Dean still felt badly about interrupting Charlie and Gilda's tryst and stopping it before it began. Maybe now she'll get a second chance.

"Thanks, Charlie."

"See you ASAP," Garth replied.

Dean put the walkie down and turned back to Cas, "You okay there buddy?"

"I'm still here," the angel mumbled. "What happened to Sam?"

"He's knocked out from the landing," Dean replied. "He'll be fine. It's - "

A rustle of wings interrupted him as the angel Naomi appeared.

"You missed it," Dean said with bravado to cover his cough. "The whole battle-to-end-battles, closing the Gates of Hell? Yeah. But a bunch of Eve's freaks joined us for the fun."

"I saw," she commented tritely.

"And didn't think an extra angel or two would be a good idea on this one?" Dean shot at her. When she didn't respond, he continued, "Are you here to help us out or what? How's about a little healing?"

Naomi replied, "I am here to help you and Sam."

"Sam's fine, he's just knocked out. Cas is the one who needs a hand here - "

" - she's not here to help me, Dean," Castiel rasped from the ground. "She's here to kill me."

Naomi closed in, "I'm sorry, Dean, but he was given a choice, and this - "

"No freaking way," Dean snapped, stumbling between her and Cas. "After everything we've done, there's no way - "

"Do you really think you can stop me, Dean?" Naomi kept her voice level and calm. "You don't have an angel blade, and even if you did, you can barely stand."

"So, what? You wait till we're all broken and bloody to make your move, lady? That's a bitch move on your part."

"Please, this isn't about you," Naomi said.

"If it's about Cas, then it is about me."

"Castiel has fallen over and over again, and every chance for redemption - "

"Screw redemption," Dean interrupted. "You screwed with my brother's head so he'd leave me to die in Purgatory, and let both of us think that was his choice for months before the truth came out. What have you done to redeem yourself for that?"

Naomi's patience wore thin. It's not often she dealt with her dirty laundry being aired, and it made it difficult to maintain her composure. "Like I said, I'm not here for you Dean, I'm here to take Castiel - "

"Back off, bitch, you're not taking him."

She moved closer as she spoke because Sam stirred, and she didn't want to deal with both belligerent hunters.

"I am," she said. "I just wanted you to know that I am sorry, Dean."

She reached up to touch his forehead to put him to sleep.

But before she touched him, Dean said, "Then there's something you need to know."

"Oh?"

"Azazel. Lilith. Zachariah. Lucifer. Eve. Dick Roman. Crowley. Oh, and freaking Zeus."

"I'm sorry?" Naomi asked, wondering if Dean's head injury was more substantial than she detected.

"At the time, they all thought they could do whatever they wanted to whoever they wanted. They told me I couldn't stop them. They were un-fucking-touchable. You know what they have in common now?"

"Dean - "

" - they're all dead or stuck in a box. All of them. That's what happens to high-and-mighty assholes who go after my family. And Cas here, he's family. You touch him, try to hurt him, and I will drop your name on that list without even thinking about it."

Dean was bloody and bruised, not to mention swaying off balance, but the venom he put into his words made his intent clear. "You want to kill Cas and live, then you'd better kill all three of us, otherwise - "

" - I admire your loyalty, Dean," Naomi interrupted. "But a fair warning. Now that Hell is closed, the other angels may be less amenable to your threats."

"You mean you'll send your soldiers after him?" Dean demanded. "Wow, that's classy."

An approaching car covered the sound of Naomi's departure.

"Dean," Cas sputtered. "Thank you."

"Shut up," he replied. "No thank you required."

Garth pulled up in his pickup, Charlie and the fairy Gilda riding in the bed of truck. 


	22. Fairy Magic Will Do That

**Chapter Twenty-Two  
Brunch**

Castiel woke in a bed. His head hurt. His feet hurt. Everything between the two hurt.

Disorientation licked him. With no need to sleep, angels find unconsciousness a bewildering rarity. He shook himself and found his grace felt out of place. He vaguely remembered something about a fairy.

That didn't make a lot of sense to him, but then again, he woke up in a dark room wearing only underwear and an undershirt, so maybe life wasn't supposed to add up right now.

The confusion propelled him to an upright position, which he immediately regretted. Apparently moving too quickly in his current state caused vertigo. He made a mental note of it for later.

"What... happened?" he said out loud.

He started to remember the fight, but all of that whirled by quickly. Then he remembered Naomi and Dean, and his heart sped up as he thought of how Dean defended him.

But after that, all he remembered was the POP! of the fairy magic and darkness. Then, sometime later, there was someone putting cold, wet fabric on his head. This seemed to be a strange custom, but it definitely happened.

"Dean?" Cas asked. "Hello?"

Cas felt around for a light switch, which felt a foolish thing for an angel to do. Yet he found it, and when the lights snapped on, far too bright.

Squinting, he looked around. He wasn't in a motel room. Cas surmised that he must be the 'Bat Cave' Dean kept mentioning, though it didn't seem to be a cave at all. Then again, Dean Winchester had a funny way of expressing things.

And there he was, sprawled out over a very short couch beyond the foot of the bed.

It looked as if Dean had fallen asleep by accident. Cas hardly imagined he would have willfully drooled down his front.

Finding his sea legs, Castiel made his way over to Dean to wake him up.

He didn't make it before Dean's eyes snapped open, and then his jaw dropped. A quick succession of movements then followed: Dean stood straight up, reacted to the drool with surprise, then attempted to wipe it away. Failing, he shook himself and made it to Cas in two strides.

"You're awake, you bastard!" he exclaimed, clasping Cas in a hug.

"Yes, I am, but there's nothing illegitimate about my birth, Dean."

"You were down for three days, Cas, three," Dean continued, with both affection and annoyance in his voice. "With a fever running to a hundred and six."

"That sounds deeply unpleasant."

"You kept babbling, Cas. You remember any of that?"

"No," he replied, tilting his head to one side. "Was this when you were putting wet fabric on my head?"

"Yeah to keep your temperature down."

"I see."

"You kept telling me to leave you to die, Cas," Dean said. "You really don't remember that?"

"You sound very angry," commented Cas.

"Damn right."

Dean started pacing. Out of all the human beings Cas had ever met, Dean went from sleeping to agitated out of his mind the fastest.

"You kept saying stuff like, 'You need to get out of here, I'm dying,' and then 'Naomi came to kill me, not you...' Like telling me when that shit was actually happening wasn't bad enough - "

"I'm sorry, I don't remember saying any of it," Cas placated. "After the first time, anyway."

"Okay, about that," Dean snapped. "What the hell, Cas?"

"Dean, I was trying to - "

"To what? Give up?"

"I was trying to save you!" the angel spat back.

"What does that even mean? The Gates of Hell are closed, Cas. We should be breaking out the freaking champagne!"

The angel cast his eyes down before he said, "Naomi, before the connection broke between us, the mind control modification she did to my vessel, she gave me an ultimatum."

"An ultimatum?"

"I believe that is the term, yes," Cas said.

"This was when you touched the Angel Tablet?" Dean asked.

"No, before, when my orders were to kill you." Cas tried to hide his shame but failed. "I kept asking her not to make me, and she told me that I had to choose. You or them."

"You mean humans and angels?"

"No," Cas said. "You and Sam or the angels. She wanted me to kill you so I'd cut my bonds, my ties, to the human world. To Team Free Will as you called it."

"Cas..."

"But I couldn't do it. I just couldn't kill you," he said. "And after that, Naomi put a price on my head. She couldn't reform me, so I have to die."

"Well, let'em try," Dean said. "Because - "

"Dean, we're talking about all the angels in Heaven, with no hell to oppose them, no demons to contain... I knew as soon as the gates were closed, they'd come for me."

"When last I checked, Kevin, his mother, me, and Sammy, we don't trust any angel other than you. So, they'd better suck it up and deal."

"I'm glad to be here," Cas offered. "I just don't want to put you at risk..."

"Can it, Cas. You're staying."

Castiel's stomach gave a long, rolling roar. Both he and Dean looked down in surprise.

"You feeling okay there, Cas?"

"I don't know what that was," the angel responded, honestly embarrassed.

"You're hungry," Dean said, sizing him up. "You still got your angel mojo, right?"

Castiel zapped behind Dean with a flutter to prove his point. "Seems my mojo, as you call it, is still in tact."

"Damnit Cas, don't do that!"

"I remember being poisoned in battle," Cas said. "Maybe I haven't fully recovered?"

"Gilda, the fairy Charlie's dating, she told me she was able to cure the poison, but you'd be a little more human for awhile," Dean replied. "But she didn't elaborate."

"Fairy magic isn't compatible with demonic or angelic power. That must be why my head hurts and my stomach is... roaring."

Dean cracked a wide smile, "Well, I can fix that last one, at least. Let's get something to eat."


	23. Brunch

**Chapter Twenty-Three  
Brunch**

Dean moved around the kitchen, frying bacon and broiling burgers. He'd been living at the Men of Letters Lair for almost a year, and he felt like a master in the kitchen.

The questions that bubbled up in his head distracted him. More than once he burned perfectly good bacon. Castiel watched him with his blue, childlike eyes.

"I gotta ask," Dean started casually. "I thought the Angel Mind Control thing was broken by the tablet."

"It did sever the last ties," Cas admitted. "But I rejected her orders before that."

"Okay, but how?"

"Naomi doesn't understand..." Cas tried to find the right words. "She's an angel, and like most angels - "

"She's a bitch."

"She doesn't understand emotion. She thought she could condition me into killing you - "

"Condition you? Like with a simulator?"

"About a thousand times," Cas replied simply.

"You killed me a thousand times?" Dean shot at him, burning another batch of bacon.

"Only technically," Cas replied. "Not the real you, obviously."

Dean dished out burgers and bacon on two separate plates. "Come get your brunch."

They sat at an actual dining room table to eat. Cas remarked several times on the crispiness of the bacon, "It reminds me of apples."

"Apples, obviously," said Dean, his mouth full.

Finally realizing what was amiss, Castiel asked, "Where's Sam?"

"Garth caught a case yesterday, and Sam wanted in. So he's out in nowhere, Idaho."

The angel found the burgers palatable, and soon his stomach stopped growling.

"Okay, so if it wasn't the tablet, and if you'd killed fake me a thousand times before, how did you break free?" Dean asked.

Cas literally squirmed in his seat. "Naomi underestimated our connection," he replied evasively.

"Our connection?"

"Yes."

"Cas, com'on, you can tell me."

"Naomi doesn't know love like I do."

The silence that followed this statement was both profound and uncomfortable, and it lasted until after brunch, when Sam called to check in with Dean.

"Angel-boy is awake," Dean said into the phone.

He dropped his voice and said, "Why would we? Sounds like you guys got it covered. We'll stay here."

Dean started pacing again, "No, he's fine, we just - we're taking the day off, okay? Seriously, we wiped all demons off the face of the earth three days ago. How are we all not on vacation?"

The conversation ended when Dean shouted, "Stow it, Sammy!" before he hung up the phone.

"Does Sam require our assistance?" Castiel asked.

"No, Garth'n'Sam can handle it," Dean replied. He put his phone down and started for Cas.

"But, there is a case?"

"Yes, but we're taking the day off."

"What does that entail?"

Dean had been very particular about the notion of personal space. Castiel didn't quite understand it, but he managed to create a mathematical function that analyzed environmental variables, such as ceiling height and other room dimensions, to gauge the approximate distance he should maintain between himself and another person.

For whatever reason, however, Dean no longer seemed to care. The room they were standing in was incredibly spacious and empty except for the two of them, yet Dean came so close that Cas could feel his breath.

"I am going to make one thing absolutely clear," Dean said, keeping his voice low. "We're men."

"Actually, you're a man and I'm a - "

"I mean, we're guys, okay? We don't sit around and talk about our feelings or crap like that."

"On several occasions, we've - " Castiel stopped short as Dean's eyebrows raised. Generally, this expression meant he should cease speaking.

"Right, we're guys," Cas said in agreement.

Dean's expression changed completely. His eyes clouded over as if searching for something, and his bravado dropped away. Castiel tilted his head in confusion.

Suddenly, Dean pulled Cas towards him, one hand around the back of his neck the other around his lower back. It literally zapped the thoughts straight out the angel's head when Dean's lips pressed against his.

Cas had been married when he had amnesia and, believing himself to be human, took on the identity Emmanuel. He remembered kissing his then-wife, sliding his lips over her top lip, or gently tugging at her bottom lip with his. He also remembered tongue and teeth being involved.

But he couldn't recall a kiss like this one. It started soft and quiet, not to mention suddenly, then continued, first with lips, then teeth, then tongue. At some point, Castiel's right hand slid up Dean's chest while his left hand ended up in Dean's hair.

Dean had tried to think of a thousand ways to talk to Cas, but his thoughts didn't make any sense. And sure as hell, no amount of talking would've given him the spine-tingling feeling he was experiencing in this moment.

Instead of being new, or exciting, or even tentative, it felt like this kiss had happened a hundred times before yet never got old.

Castiel experienced several new sensations, as if the angel's insides were rearranging themselves. Nerves all over his body pricked up while his stomach and liver felt odd.

Dean moved one of his hands slowly up Castiel's neck, cupping his chin, then moving on to his cheek. The touch made Cas's heart skip a beat, which sent out a radiating pulse that exploded all the light bulbs nearby.

The event jolted them apart in surprise.

"Uh, Cas, what the hell was that?"

"I'm uncertain," the angel replied. "I think it was you."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"How do you figure?" Dean asked, his eyes adjusting to the dark.

"I don't usually explode things, unless that is my intent."

"Then what caused - "

"I think the expression is 'my heart fluttered,'" he explained.

"So that's going to happen every time?"

Luckily the first jolt took out all the lights. Otherwise Cas would've exploded the remainder at the suggestion, no, the promise, of another kiss.

"Dean, I - "

"Me, too," Dean cut him off. "Remember what I said?"

"We're men?"

"That's right. We don't talk about our feelings."

"Of course."

"How about you just try to keep the explosions to a minimum," Dean said.

Cas swallowed hard. He wasn't sure he could make such a promise.

Again Dean cut off his brain with a kiss, pushing Castiel's back against a wall. It was fine, except the wall in question was actually an unlatched door that swung in and caused both of them to fall awkwardly.

"That was not me," Cas asserted immediately.

Dean laughed. "I know, Cas."

"Why are you laughing?"

He replied, "I'm happy, that's why."

"Dean, I - "

But again, his thoughts stopped short at Dean's touch, which continued undeterred for two blissful minutes.

Until Dean's emergency ringer buzzed on his phone.


	24. Fruitland, Idaho

**Chapter Twenty-Four  
Fruitland, Idaho**

"You gotta be kidding me," Dean said as he stomped over to his phone. "What?" he answered.

"Maybe they need help," Castiel suggested.

Even in the dark, Cas could see Dean's face falling, first into anger, then concern.

"Okay, okay, calm down," Dean said into the phone. "Where are you?"

"Is there a problem?" the angel asked.

Dean hung up. "We need to get to the outskirts of Fruitland, Idaho to a place called the Enlightenment Compound. Garth and Sam are there."

Castiel took Dean's arm, and in the moment it took for him to understand touch in a new context, they were there, next to an unconscious Garth and freely bleeding Sam.

"Sam," Dean spat out as he closed in on his brother. "What the - "

His words were cut short by the roar of a mouth-wide Leviathan, ready to chow down on Garth. Dean grabbed a blade from Sam and slashed his way toward the monster, who seemed to enjoy the new challenge.

The Leviathan tackled Dean, knocking his sword away and pinning him down. This was an unfortunate move on the monster's part, as Castiel grabbed it by the hair and blasted it, congealing its insides and burning out its eyes.

Dean got up, and for good measure, chopped off its head, splattering everyone with black, gooey blood.

"Dean, what the hell?" Sam inquired.

"Just in case. Never seen an angel smite a Leviathan outside of Purgatory," Dean replied.

Meanwhile, Cas had gone over to Garth and reached out his hand. The weedy ex-dentist shot straight up and exclaimed, "Hey now!" in response to being healed.

"There's at least one more," Sam pointed out as Cas healed his broken arm.

"What the hell were you thinking, going after two Leviathans without more backup?" Dean asked.

Garth snorted, "We thought they were just shape shifters."

"You were very wrong," Castiel replied. "Are you sure there were only two Leviathan?"

"Started themselves a cult," Garth explained. "People join up and are eaten for their troubles. Anyone comes to call looking for any of the members, and, well, either they're lunch or the Levis got a chunk stashed away somewhere to impersonate them. All in all, a pretty damn good scam."

"Damnit," Dean interjected. "Last thing we need is another group of Leviathan with a plan. Let's hope the one that got away was Pinky and this one was the Brain."

"Pinky?" Cas asked.

"I'll show you an episode later," Dean replied dismissively.

"We gotta git going, guys," Garth pointed out, "the other Levi's still here."

"You got any Borax?" Dean asked.

"We only brought silver..."

"I'll get it," Castiel said before disappearing.

Garth lead Sam and Dean out of the room and deeper into the compound. In terms of creepy cult hideaways, the place passed muster. Being empty made it easy to search.

As they padded down another hollow hall, Castiel popped back in with an industrial spray bottle for each of them.

"He's in there," the angel said as they approached large double-doors.

"Howd'u know?" Garth asked.

"Subtly is not a strong Leviathan trait," Cas remarked.

Garth motioned to an amused Sam and Dean to take left and right as he went center.

Sam said, "You sure, Garth? Last time - "

"Sam, please," Garth whispered. "Let's go."

Amazingly, Garth was able to kick in the double-doors, which were left unlocked. Brandishing their spray bottles, Sam and Dean flanked Garth. The Leviathan powered towards them until the continuous borax forced him to swerve and stall.

A flutter of wings sounded, and Castiel was behind the second Leviathan. The plan would've been flawless, but the room was too wide to be properly surrounded by four people. Breaking rank towards Sam, the monster smashed itself through one of the far windows.

Garth ran to the window and commented, "Hell, that's new."

"We've got a bigger problem," Sam remarked as he looked at the package the Leviathan had dropped before escaping. "Not as elaborate as Big Daddy Chomper's plan, but I think we've got one, or the starts of one, here."

The assessment might've been premature, given the three second glance he had for the bag, but Sam had a bad feeling that this was just the beginning.

"Let's take whatever we can and get the hell outta here," Dean suggested.

"We gotta room at the Brick Lane Motel," Garth said, "And if you two wanna come, one of you has to ride in the truck bed."

Dean called dibs on the truck bed; Sam made a passing comment about his brother being like a dog.

"I guess he could be a Siberian Husky," Castiel commented. "Of course, I am not well-versed in canines."

"So you're an angel, then?" Garth asked brightly.

* * *

Back at the Motel, Sam confirmed his initially hasty assessment as he looked through the documents the Leviathan had packed up.

"Demons are wiped from the face of the earth, and now we've gotta wannabe Dick Roman? Couldn't get a week off or something?" Dean complained loudly.

"'Course not, Dean," Garth said smugly. "Hunters hunt so long as there's something out there to kill, right?"

"Don't forget ghosts," Sam added.

"Is there any indication of where they could be?" Castiel asked. "I could survey the locales for activity."

Sam pulled out a map and showed Cas. "It's marked up, but there's no key. Some cities are circled once, others twice, different colors... It's gotta be some kind of code. Before we go poking around, we might want to dig in, you know?"

"I say we pack up this stuff, call a hunter's meet back at my safe boat, and get crackin'," Garth suggested.

"Okay, well, sounds like a marathon kinda deal not a sprint," Dean said.

"Yeah, I might have some resources we can use back at our place, but it'd take a few days," Sam said.

"Right, 'course," Garth conceded.

"Oh, we need to pick up light bulbs, Sam," Dean said.

"What?"

Dean replied, "Like a hundred of them."

"I had an exploding mishap," Castiel admitted guiltily. "So you either need candles or more bulbs."

"Exploding mishap? That sounds like a bitova personal problem," Garth remarked with sympathy. "You okay man?"

The expression on Castiel's face, as read by Dean, was something like I-didn't-know-love-caused-angels-to-explode-things-so-please-don't-blame-me. He tilted his head and let the confusion break over his face.

Sam looked from Dean to Cas before he replied, "Well, he took down a Leviathan today, how bad can he be?"

"I'm driving," Dean yelled, almost rushing the door to ensure the driver's seat.

"Shotgun," Castiel said, winging out just be sure.

Garth stopped Sam from following them. "What's going on with them?"

"Uh, just you know, guy stuff," Sam said uncertainly.


	25. Never a Last Stand

**Chapter Twenty-Five  
Never a Last Stand  
**

Back at the Bat Cave, Sam walked around, replacing all the light bulbs and making note of a half dozen spoiled electronics.

"The coffee maker?" he asked loudly. "Seriously guys? How did you do this?"

There was no response.

"Dean?" Sam yelled. "What the hell?"

He pounded on Dean's door to no avail. As he popped the door open, a note fell on his head. Apparently, it had been jammed in the door's crevice like a booby trap.

 _Sam:_

 _First, don't go in my damn room if the door is shut, even if I don't respond._

 _Second, I'm on vacation. Not fake, cut-short vacation, but actual vacation, all day. Do me a favor and don't call, even if that means you take the day off to make sure you don't have to._

 _-Dean_

"Nice," Sam said to himself, crumpling up the note.

* * *

Rufus's Cabin had fewer electrical appliances than any motel or other hideaway the Winchesters used. It wasn't nearly as well kept, but it had all the essentials, and what's more, with Sam stashed at the Men of Letters Lair, it was completely empty. That's how Dean and Cas wound up there today.

Above all, it was his eyes - the steady, steel-blue fixtures - that kept Dean on track. Uncertainty, or embarrassment, would nip at his heels, but all he'd have to do is look into Castiel's eyes, and all that evaporated.

Kissing had long been a favorite pastime of Dean's, and he never felt a hitch in kissing the angel.

Admittedly, Dean never imagined locking lips with another man, touching him - but then again, he never thought he'd be in love, as in holy-shit-I'm-complete-with-you-fucking-soap-opera love with an angel. And the lack of imagination and forethought made the entire experience continuously surprising and blissfully thought-free. Fluid, even slippery, as time went on.

In truth, an element of angelic being is a form of spiritual telepathy similar to listening to a silent prayer, except on a physical level. Every time Castiel healed Dean, he felt every gyrating atom. Sexual contact through his vessel amplified this particular phenomenon, like accelerating the spinning of a wheel to the point of where it opened Dean up to the same experiences as Cas.

Vulcan mind-meld-like events aside, the sheer physical sensation alone could've slain its fair share of dragons, should anyone be willing to put it to the test.

Rufus's cabin was completely isolated, but had anyone passed by on this day, they would've witnessed the very stone foundation shaking as the wood splintered under the tremendous force of angelic pleasure rising into the sky.

At that particular moment, neither cared that they had literally brought down the cabin around them. It wasn't until a beam cast down next to them that they really noticed.

Instinctively, Dean pressed Cas's body into the back of the sofa, protecting him from any debris. Post-coitus lethargy set in on him, but apparently angels were immune. He rolled Dean to his other side, making him the little spoon.

"We might need to build a safe-sex room, Cas," Dean said sleepily. "One that we can't blow up."

Castiel smiled at the indication of 'we,' and replied, "I understand."

As Dean fell asleep, the angel pondered the requirements of such a room. It wasn't until nearly half an hour later that he realized Dean had fallen asleep naked in the middle of wrecked cabin that could fall on his head with only his angel there to protect him. Something about that seared into Castiel's mind and blood forever.

 **End of Part One: Trials of Hell and Heart  
**

* * *

 **Author's Note:** This chapter marks the end of the fifth episode adapted, originally called 09x00 Never a Last Stand. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far and will check back for future updates.


	26. Summertime Blues Postmark

**Part Two**  
 **Another Chance at the Brass Ring**

 **Chapter Twenty-Six**  
 **Summertime Blues Postmark**

Krissy Chambers and her foster-brother Aiden walked home on a blissful Tuesday afternoon. He rushed ahead to unlock the door while she popped open the mailbox.

"Jo left a note!" Aiden yelled from the door. "She'll be back at four! Family meeting!"

"Got it!" Krissy shouted back.

Josephine, before foster-sister and now legal guardian, only requested family meetings when something important came up. Before Krissy had time to wonder what it was, she spotted a large manila envelop for Jo from Princeton.

Her jaw dropped. She didn't know - she couldn't know - that not far from where she was, Linda Tran opened her mail to find a similar envelop for her son, Kevin.

* * *

Castiel had spent more time among humans than any other angel, except perhaps Gabriel and Metatron. His time with the Winchesters taught him a great deal, but though he had acquired some social skills (or at least an understanding of them), he realized that his two closest human companions hadn't given him true insight on humanity. Namely because of their their drifting, motel-living, fast-food-eating ways.

This particular revelation came in the meat and poultry isle, where silhouettes of cows, pigs, and chickens hung over packaged cuts for selection. Cas wondered why humans would put the image of a cow over slices of steak and ground beef after spending millennia de-associating the meat from their animal sources. After all, humans referred to it as 'steak,' rather than 'hunk of cow.'

"Cas, com'on," Sam said from the canned food isle.

Having no need for food, the angel considered the entire scenario superfluous, but Dean insisted on 'showing Cas the ropes' on being human, which for some reason included the grocery store.

"We need spices," Sam told the angel as he handed him a list. "Can you get some from the cooking isle?"

Cas took the slip of paper with reverence. This, for the most part, was an act of trust.

Still, the angel found this particular ritual very strange. The list included cinnamon, parsley, basil, red pepper, black pepper, and chili pepper powder. He could easily zap around the world to collect fresh specimens of each, yet here he was searching for bottled versions in the Kansas Super Saver.

Otherwise the trip was uneventful. Sam and Dean seemed very excited about food, so he attempted to be supportive.

They had to walk for several minutes to reach the car because Dean insisted on parking the Impala in a shady spot on the outside of the lot.

"Grocery stores are full of kids," he explained. "And parents with all those freaking carts. You park there, and you're just asking for my baby to get dinged."

Dean literally shuddered at the thought. Castiel wondered how a man who suffered for forty years in Hell could be shaken by a scratch of paint. Whatever the reason, the angel found it endearing.

They finished loading the trunk with groceries and were about to depart when the angel sensed something. The neon sign nearest the Impala flickered out.

Cas spun around, but he saw nothing.

"What's up?" Sam asked.

"I thought..." Castiel began. "It's nothing."

The angel had been on edge for weeks, ever since Naomi tried to kill him. There was every possibility that he was simply overreacting.

Dean's eyes followed an old man pushing a cart not too far from them. Cas's stomach dropped when he realized that the man hadn't been there moments ago, defying all human rules of time and space.

"Cas, let's go," Dean said. "Now."

Too late.

The man, who looked about eighty, drew an angel blade and leapt at Cas, successfully plunging the weapon into his shoulder. Dispassionately, Cas gripped the hilt of the blade and threw the assailant back with a palm-heel strike to the chest. The elderly man couldn't keep hold of his weapon when he was thrown back, so when the other angel stood up, he was unarmed.

"Go," Castiel ordered.

"I don't take orders from you!" snapped old-man-angel.

"No, just that bitch Naomi," Dean said.

"No, actually, I'm here because Castiel is a disgrace!" the other angel replied.

Dean advanced on the other angel, but Cas stopped him.

"Dean, don't. He's unarmed. Let him go."

Dean said, "But – "

"He's unarmed," Cas repeated, interrupting. "Even with a blade he won't succeed."

"Is that right?" taunted the other angel.

"Yes it is, Tamandriel," spat Castiel. "Go!"

A flutter of wings, and he was gone.

Sam said, "What the hell was – "

His phone interrupted him.

Dean's phone rang, too.

"That can't be a good sign," Dean remarked.

"Hey, Garth," Sam answered. "We're kinda busy here..."

Krissy had texted Dean: "Call me back soon. Not life / death but important."

"We should go," Castiel said he healed himself. "More angels may be coming."

"Don't have to tell me twice."

They got into the car and peeled out. For the first few minutes of ride, Dean kept asking Castiel about the angel attack and Sam continuously hushed him, trying to keep up with Garth.

Finally, Sam hung up the phone and said, "We need to get to Missouri. Garth is having a meltdown."

"Is it Kevin?" Cas asked.

"Kevin and Krissy and Aiden and Jo."

"Krissy and..." Dean began. "Wait, you mean the Apple Dumpling Gang we – "

"Yeah, them," Sam interrupted.

"Okay, we'll drop the groceries and Cas off at the bunker," Dean said.

"What?" Cas asked.

"You were just attacked in broad daylight by a ninety-five-year-old man-angel," Dean replied. "You're on lock-down."

"How did he even find you? Through us?" Sam asked.

"Us? We've got anti-angel tagging on our ribs."

"I added those to my vessel as well," said Cas. "They shouldn't have been able to find me."

"Good, you sit and meditate on how Tamandy boy – "

Cas corrected him, "Tamandriel."

"Whatever. Figure out how he zeroed in on you. Until we know how, you stay in the bunker, where no one can see, hear, or anything you. Got it?"

"But if Kevin is in trouble – "

Sam jumped in, "We'll call for help. Promise."

"And by call he means cell phone. No zapping anywhere."

Castiel sulked.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : This chapter marks the beginning of Part Two: Another Chance at the Brass Ring.


	27. Shelter

**Chapter Twenty-Seven  
Shelter**

Kevin Tran, Prophet of the Lord and the Sole Keeper of the Word on Earth, paced in a threadbare t-shirt, old khaki shorts, and mismatched socks.

When he first moved in, the Safe House Boat seemed like refuge. Hell, it was a palace compared to the drafty, spoiled places he resorted to hiding in while on the run. But spending over six months inside a tiny metal tube had made him miserable and crazy.

Eventually he became crazy enough to make a break for it, despite being fully aware that demons wanted to kidnap him, and he was captured for his trouble. All because he wanted to sprint to the end. He was desperate to slam the Gates of Hell shut as quickly possible because that was his way off this stupid boat and back to his life.

Yet, somehow, here he was again.

After Castiel rescued him, he and his mom kept on the run, driving cross-country in a supernaturally warded trailer, pretending they were on some weird mother/son bonding trip. They moved from hunter to hunter, never staying anywhere longer than a few days, worried that any hint of the Tran family would draw out Crowley's demonic forces.

And now he was back on this damn boat, back in his own personal Purgatory, dressed in clothing so old it was practically falling apart as he wore it.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of people coming aboard.

"Kevin?" his mother called. "I've got lunch!"

He opened the main cabin door to let her in.

"Great thanks Mom," he said.

She had brought pizza, which seemed a glorious luxury. This made him feel both elated and despondent, a dichotomy Kevin had grown accustomed to.

"I've got good news," Linda said. "I found a house off-campus. It's perfect."

"You think you can convince them to let me go?"

"We don't have to ask anyone. No more demons. No more kidnapping."

"But there're still monsters and angels," Kevin replied as he set the table with paper plates and napkins. "And I... I don't think we should burn bridges, you know?"

She sized her son up. "You do want to go, don't you?"

"More than anything, I want out of here. I want Princeton."

"Okay, then we'll make it happen."

His mother pulled out a real estate file as they began eating.

"Whoa, Mom! Five bedrooms? Really?"

"Six if you count the third-story room. The people who owned it were prepping for the end times or whatever they're calling it these days. They added a bomb shelter to the basement."

"That's what you were looking for?" Kevin asked. "A place in New Jersey with a bunker?"

Linda laughed. "No, that was just a bonus. I was looking for four, preferably five, bedrooms."

Kevin gulped down the pizza as his mind filled with confusion. They hadn't bothered with a proper guestroom since his grandmother died five years ago. So why the sudden need for half a dozen bedrooms? Was she adopting six new sons?

"Why five?" he asked.

"Eat your pizza, Kevin."

The groan of the ship told them that someone else had arrived. The arguing told them it was Sam, Dean, and Garth, as all three voices carried down to the hold.

"Dean, you can't be serious!" barked Sam.

"Damn right I am," Dean snapped. "With angels on his ass, Cas can't watch out for them. We can't just cut him loose!"

"I hear ya," Garth interrupted. "But I don't know of any hunters who can give up everything and sit around in New Jersey, Dean."

The three men finally pushed through the door to find Kevin and his mother eating.

"Hey, Ms. Tran," said Sam. "Kevin."

The conversation that ensued could be likened to a monsoon. Bright, arid climate became humid and dark, with howling winds and hints of danger. Then suddenly buckets of crap fell from the sky, with thunder and lightning for effect. Dean's cell phone kept ringing every ten minutes.

"Closing the Gates of Hell," repeated Kevin. "That was my way out of this, out of here!"

Nothing Sam or Dean could say about his safety, about reality, seemed to matter. His personal mantra kept him strong.

Then Ms. Tran stepped in.

"My son is going to Princeton. Three hunters have already contacted me and made arrangements. Two will live off campus with me, and the other will be on campus with Kevin," she said.

"Three hunters?" Sam asked.

"Oh, right, didn't I mention? Krissy found out about Kevin," Garth said.

Sam and Dean shot Garth a look that made him flinch.

"My bad, I was trying to be, ya know, personable. Anyway, they, uh, all want to go to New Jersey too," Garth said. Then he asked Linda, "Guess they called you?"

"They did."

"And how did they do that, Garth?" Sam asked.

Sheepishly, Garth responded, "I think Aiden picked my pocket and took one of my phones."

"No, hell no!" Dean said. "You can't set up a bunch of tween hunters, a prophet, and his mother in New Jersey and expect everything to be okay!"

Thus, the shit rained down on all of them.

 _Don't underestimate the wrath of a Tran_ , Sam noted for later.

When everything calmed down, Sam made one last go of things. He said, "Isn't there anything, anything we can do – "

"No," Linda interrupted.

Sam regrouped quickly and said, "Okay, then, let's do this smart. For starters, we'll need some kind of distress signal."

* * *

Dean and Sam left the boat feeling defeated. Even more so when they saw Ms. Tran take her son's luggage to her car and drive off with him.

Dean's phone rang again.

"What the hell man? Who's calling you?" Sam asked.

Dean passed his brother the keys. "You drive."

As they popped into the Impala, Dean answered his phone. "Hey Cas, what's up?"

Sam rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry, were kinda in the middle of it. Cas, no! It wasn't a fight-fight like with weapons. An argument, okay? We'd've called for help if we needed it."

Dean listened to what must have been an extensive angel rant.

"Okay, okay, okay! Cas! Sam and I are driving back right now. We'll talk about this when we get back. All right?"

Dean didn't even hide his sigh as he hung up.

Sam smirked, "Is the honeymoon over or what?"

Dean let the comment go and replied, "Shut up. You'd be pissed too if we stuck you at the bunker."

Sam wanted to talk about the new Dean-Castiel relationship dynamic, but he bit it back. They hadn't really come to him with the news, and he wanted to give them the chance.

That, and he wasn't really sure how to approach the topic. What would he say? 'Hey Dean, when did you start dating Cas?' Or 'Dean, shouldn't you introduce me to your new boyfriend?'

Boyfriend. That sounded weird to Sam. Not because Dean had, to the best of his knowledge, exclusively dated women, that didn't bother him at all. Boyfriend felt weird to Sam as a way to describe Castiel. He was an angel, and while they did seem to have gendered identities and even gendered names, angels themselves weren't technically male or female. So did boyfriend really fit?

This particular tract lead Sam to wondering if Cas might pick another vessel, a female vessel, later on. Sam tried to imagine nieces and nephews, and this made him feel happy then ridiculous.

He couldn't help it, he laughed out loud with no provocation.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Oh, nothing," Sam lied.


	28. Bargaining

**Chapter Twenty-Eight  
Bargaining**

The Men of Letters Bunker felt like more than just a place where he had his own room. Since Castiel moved in, it became the home Dean never had. If he indulged himself, he would've acknowledged - even if only to himself - that it wasn't the somewhere as much as it was the someone. But Dean didn't indulge; he had shit to do. And when that shit included protecting his family, he didn't do anything till it was done.

Cas was waiting for them in the war room, his usually peaceful expression surly and knotted.

"What's going on with the Prophet?" Castiel demanded.

He hadn't meant to be abrupt or pissed off. He spent the better part of the day bored and worried. He nearly teleported to them when Dean hadn't picked up the tenth call. Of course, Dean had reacted as if his concerns were somehow childish. As if he wasn't companion to two people who were constantly beset with supernatural conflicts! Two people who were - resolutely and helplessly - human!

Castiel stopped and curbed his temper. It wasn't helping.

He asked, "I mean, is Kevin okay?"

"He's going to college," Dean replied. "But don't worry, his mom has managed to get a bunch of teenagers to 'protect' him."

"You sound displeased."

"Hunter tweens Cas! They shouldn't be hunting, let alone protecting Kevin. He's got more baggage than anyone!" Dean reflected for a heartbeat. "Except us."

"You and Sam both hunted as teenagers," Castiel reminded him. "You saved many lives."

"You watched us when we were teenagers?" Sam asked.

"Not me personally, but angels did. They also saw you hunt as children, and you are both still alive."

"How many times have we died?" Dean asked.

"Sam has died – " Castiel began, but then he stopped. The brothers shared the general expression that he had come to know as 'don't actually answer that.'

"What we mean, Cas, is that our lives aren't what we want for these kids," Dean explained. "They should have the chance to be happy."

"You're not happy?" Castiel asked in a way that sounded vulnerable and hurt.

It made Sam feel like fleeing the room.

"I – didn't say that," Dean replied. His response burned out in the wake of Cas's blank stare. "I am happy now, but all the crap we've waded through? Cas, you of all people, you know. Would you inflict the pain and drama Sam and I had to live with on other people?"

This seemed to placate the angel. He replied, "I see your point."

"Okay, so how do we stop this?" Dean asked.

"You don't," Sam and Cas replied at the same time.

They gave each other looks of absolute surprise. They hardly ever agreed with one another, let alone spoken simultaneously.

"What?" Dean asked.

"You can't control the Prophet, unless you plan on using a curse, which is ill-advised," Cas said. "And without Crowley trying to kidnap him, he's not in as much danger as before."

"But he's still in some danger."

"Yeah but we're talking monsters now," said Sam. "They can't just possess people. Hell, some of them you see a mile coming."

"Seriously?" Dean asked. "What about Leviathan? Shape shifters? Last time we tangled with Eve, she brought out freaking dragons – "

"Eve is not Crowley," Cas interrupted.

"Obviously. They're both dead, who cares?" Dean asked.

"Crowley always had plans, missions. He wanted more power," Cas explained. "Eve marshaled her armies in retaliation. Why would she go after Kevin? Why would any monster?"

Sam and Dean had nothing to say.

"Honestly, the angels are more of a threat," Castiel continued. "Because of the Angel Tablet. If Kevin translates it, it can put Heaven at risk."

Sam said, "I thought you threw the tablet into the ocean or something."

"Not literally, but yes, the tablet is well-hidden and safe."

"Is that why your frat bro tried to ice you this morning?" Dean asked. "They want the tablet back?"

Cas replied, "I don't think so. They can't find the tablet, and with demons wiped off the face of the earth, the only others who know about its existence are the Prophet and you two."

"So they don't want the tablet back?" Sam asked.

"They do, but they'd rather have me dead," Cas stated. "The tablet is too well hidden to be found by humans, even you two. It's not a threat to them."

Sam threw Dean a concerned look, but his brother fixed his stare on Cas.

"Cas, where is it?"

"If I tell you, the angels will target you. The only thing keeping you safe is the secret," he replied. Before the two brothers dug in for a fight, he added, "They can sense your thoughts, visit your dreams. If I tell you, then you'll know, and they'll know."

"You're not worried they'll try to get to you through us?" Sam asked.

"You closed the Gates of Hell, Sam," Castiel responded. "Retribution from Naomi against your or Dean would be... unpopular. Not to mention wrong."

"Like she's cared about that before?" Dean spat.

"She has done some unpleasant things, but her justification and her intent for those acts always worked in her favor. In this case, it wouldn't."

"Freaking angels," Dean muttered.

Sam asked, "Did you figure out how they found you, Cas?"

"I am one of only a handful of angels on earth, and I outrank all but Metatron. So whenever I heal, or teleport, or use any of my powers, I - "

"You basically send up a spotlight whenever you use your powers, huh?" Dean asked, interrupting.

"Unless I am somewhere that has been shielded from them."

"Like the bunker?" Sam asked.

The angel nodded, yes.

"All right, then I think we can agree, you're on Angel Lock-down," Dean started. "No zapping around crap or anything. You stay right here."

The lights flickered. Sam backed away when he realized the cause was the angel, apoplectic and ready to burst.

"Or," Sam said, "we can just work on Cas being a little more human in the field."

"What?"

"You know, no healing, no zapping, no smiting... not unless he can get back here right away," Sam said. "He can come with us, work with us, he'll just have to load up and carry a gun."

"We are talking about his life," Dean shot at Sam. "You get that, right?"

"I'm right here, Dean," Cas said.

"Angel Lock-down is safer."

"Not for you and Sam."

"Damnit, Cas – "

Sam's cell phone rang, and he walked away to answer it in private.

"Dean, you can't expect me to hide here forever."

"I don't, we'll figure it out," Dean assured him.

"Sam has made a perfectly adequate proposal. I believe it will be effective for preventing – "

"Another assassination attempt on you?" Dean cut him off bitterly. "No, it's not good enough, Cas. I'm not losing you again."

"And what if I lose you?" the angel asked. "What if Naomi manages to convince angels to go after you to get to me? Or hasn't it occurred to you what will happen to me if you are killed?"

"Cas..." Dean started, unprepared for the question.

"You are not responsible for everything, and you need to be protected just as much as I do," the angel continued. "You don't hide when the people you love are in danger. Do you expect me to?"

Dean felt thoroughly cowed by this. He dropped his forehead on Cas's shoulder and embraced him in an awkward, yet pleasant, hug.

"'Course I don't," he said quietly.

Apart from the squabbling duo, Sam waited for the lover's quarrel to die down. He returned to the war room slowly and loudly.

"What's going on?" Dean asked.

"They really aren't kidding," Sam replied. "Krissy, Jo, and what's-his-name...?"

"Aiden," Dean suggested.

"Right, Aiden," Sam repeated. "I just got a call from a social worker named Daniel Coopers. He wants to meet with Sam and Dean Smith about Krissy and Aiden."

Dean's expression became equal parts confusion and annoyance. "Come again?"

"They've applied to be emancipated teenagers, and Sam and Dean Smith knew Krissy's dad from work before he died, as well as Victor, their foster father," he explained. His voice was stiff, as if he were narrating a particularly lame bedtime story.

"I don't understand," said Castiel.

"Sam and Dean Winchester, Leviathan version, went on a very public cross-country killing spree and were killed, so we had to start new identities," Sam began. "We did know Krissy's dad, till a vampire ripped out his throat."

"And Victor, their 'foster father,' was in cahoots with said vampire. He had their families killed so he could make his own little hunter Brady Bunch," Dean said.

"When the kids found out what he did, he blew his own brains out," Sam finished.

"I see the issue," Cas commented mildly. "What will you do?"

Sam shook his head. "We've a meeting with them tomorrow morning. I say we hit the road and figure it out on the way."

"Wait, what?" Dean stopped. "You said we'd talk to them?"

"Dean, they're going to run off to New Jersey anyway," Sam insisted. "We might as well help them do it legally."

"No way," Dean said. "I'll tank their recommendation if I have to."

"That seems very selfish," Cas said. "You said you wanted their lives to be better than yours. I doubt forcing them to utilize false identities or into hiding would achieve that particular goal."

Dean was too shocked by the idea of Sam and Cas agreeing with each other to respond.

Cas turned to Sam and asked, "Is that what will happen if they're not emancipated?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Dean hated himself for disliking the Sam-Cas Agreement. They didn't have the best history, so should've been elated about them getting along. But he felt too betrayed to be happy. How could Sam do this to him? No, wait, how could Cas do this to him?

"Then we should help them," said Cas. Then had added, "And you will teach me how to drive."

"Later," Sam replied when he realized Dean's brain was too busy figuring out what just happened to speak. "Let's get packed."


	29. Emancipation

**Chapter Twenty-Nine  
Emancipation**

Sam, Dean, and Castiel stayed in two single-bed rooms that night. The younger Winchester explained that they were the only rooms available.

Dean didn't question it, being too tired from teaching Castiel how to behave as a human lookout for them, and the angel didn't want to question it. Too often he watched the brothers sleep in motel rooms, invisible and unsleeping. Now he didn't have to pace, or to watch, he could be with Dean without having to explain anything to Sam.

Indeed, Sam didn't even ask Cas where he wanted to stay before he grabbed his bag and disappeared into his own room.

Cas carried Dean's bag, giving the hunter time to clean up from the road trip. He had insisted Cas change into sleepwear at night, so he put on the bright red pajama bottoms that Dean selected at the store. They were adorned with black Scotty dogs.

Dean came out of the bathroom in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms and stopped short at the sight of Cas in nothing more than a pair of rolled up, Scotty-dog pants.

Cas looked down at his clothing, wondering if he had put it on incorrectly.

"What is it?" he asked.

A smirk crept up Dean's cheeks. For a moment he said nothing, but then, "You look really good."

"Is that a bad thing?" Cas asked, tilting his head slightly.

This tightened Dean's expression even more. As he moved closer, he lowered his voice, "It's a great thing, Cas."

The angel initiated a kiss, which quickly and pleasantly began to blossom into more.

"Stop," Castiel said, stepping back.

"Stop?"

"If I – if we explode light bulbs here..."

"...the angels will spot you," Dean finished miserably.

"I'm sorry."

Dean turned to his bag and pulled out a large piece of plastic, which turned out to be a giant stencil of an angel-blocking sigil.

"Give me a minute, I'll cover us up," Dean explained.

"That won't work," Castiel said. "If there are disturbances, the angels will see them, and if they can't see into this room, they'll – "

"I get it," Dean interrupted, resigning himself.

He packed the sigil-stencil away before crawling into bed.

Cas climbed into bed. He didn't need to sleep, but it was nice, pleasant even, to lie next to Dean as he slept. Dean put his head on the angel's chest.

"This sucks," Dean grumbled.

Embarrassment was the worst feeling for Cas. It was like his insides were given their own free will, and they decided to twist up and move around unnecessarily.

"I can stand if you prefer," Cas suggested.

"No, no," Dean replied. "Not you. Not this. I mean... this."

"I don't understand. Do you want me to go?"

Dean replied, "Stay."

It sounded like he had more to say, but he didn't elaborate. Instead, he took one of Castiel's hands and curled up. He didn't let go until he fell asleep.

His angel watched over him.

* * *

The meeting was at the Rolling Diner, a little fifties-style place on the main street of a small town in Kansas. Dean and Sam both dressed in semi-professional clothes under the guise of traveling salesmen while the angel adored casual attire.

As agreed, Cas went in first, about an hour before the meet. He settled into a table and ordered coffee and toast.

The social workers arrived about fifty minutes later, and Cas texted the Winchesters to inform them that nothing appeared amiss. Not yet anyway.

Sam and Dean waited to join them until the last minute, arriving right on time. They shook hands and made quick introductions before sitting at the table.

"I'm Sam Smith, and this is my brother Dean."

"Daniel Coopers."

"Dakota Gage, but, please, call me Dodge. Nice to meet you."

"I gotta ask," Dean said as he sat down. "I know that they're applying to be emancipated or whatever, but – "

"How does this work?" Daniel finished the question.

"Yes," Sam agreed.

"There're a number of factors at play, and a background check and interviews are important, especially with people like teachers and family friends," Dodge explained.

"Well, Krissy's a great kid. A lot of leadership potential," Sam said. "So how can we help?"

Daniel said, "We have a few questions."

Thus ensued an incredibly awkward yet well-traversed conversation about Krissy, Josephine, and Aiden. Cas listened intently, and while he hadn't mastered human conversation, he sensed it was going well.

Then Castiel had a peculiar feeling. Had he been better versed in these matters, he'd've said his hair stood on end. Something was very wrong and that feeling haunted him until Sam and Dean said goodbye to Dodge and Daniel.

Sam went to the bathroom, and, with no subtlety, Daniel followed him. Dodge and Dean, meanwhile, both departed to their respective cars.

With the same hard-to-define feeling nagging him, Cas went to check on Sam. It was an excellent choice on the angel's part.

As Cas entered, Sam flew across the bathroom, crashing headlong into the wall.

He looked up at Cas and sputtered, "Shifter! Silver!"

Too late. Daniel tackled Cas to the floor, tapping into some kind of super-strength and nearly breaking his arm. The fight between the two of them was vicious. Cas wailed on the shifter, who sloughed large parts of its skin. The angel found it difficult to maintain control of the increasingly slippery situation.

Sam pulled himself up, ready to help, but Cas gave up on being human and grabbed the shifter's head. The creature's eyes burned out, and its body collapsed to the floor.

POP! The old man from the parking lot appeared.

"Castiel! And here I thought you'd be a bit more careful since yesterday," the angel shouted. "Glad you weren't!"

Tamandriel reminded Sam of Zachariah. He disliked everything about him.

Rushing forward, Tamandriel grabbed Cas and crashed them both into bathroom mirrors, shaking the entire diner. Then he put Castiel in a vicious rear chokehold and knocked out his knee, gaining access to the Cas's angel blade.

Sam smashed his elbow into Tamandriel's face and knocked his fist into the angel's inner arm in a tackle, forcing him drop the weapon. Cas used a quick leg lift to the groin to free himself of the chokehold. Sam grabbed the blade's hilt and heaved it diagonally through the assailant's stomach.

A brilliant light shined leaving burnt wings across the room.

"Unbelievable," Cas spat as if it were a curse.

Taking one hand, the angel pushed Sam out of the way, healing him and cleaning up his clothes.

"I'll move the bodies elsewhere and return to the bunker. Please tell Dean I'm sorry."

POP!

Cas and the bodies were gone, leaving the bathroom in ruins. It dawned on Sam that more angels could be on the way, so he left as quickly as he could without drawing attention.

* * *

To say the ride home was uncomfortable would be putting it mildly. Dean kept grimacing, yet he bit back his usual 'I told you so.' That was what Sam found most disturbing.

"So, you aren't going to say it?" Sam tempted.

"Say what? That this sucks? Fine, I'll say it. This sucks."

"No, I mean," Sam said, unsure how to approach the topic. "Let's talk about the angel in the room here."

"The what?"

"Instead of elephant, the angel," said Sam. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad he was there to help, he saved my ass, but we could've run, you know?"

"That's why I wanted to put him on Angel Lock-down," Dean replied. "I know that's not gonna work. Wouldn't work on you'r'me. We can't expect it to work on him."

Sam waited just in case his brother decided it was time to man up and admit the obvious.

When that didn't happen, he said, "This isn't just about teaching him to fight and shoot and run. We have to make him a hunter. I'm talking a full-on human-style hunter. The only way we can do that is if you find a way to rein him in."

Dean laughed. "Sam, the guy's a freaking angel of the lord, how do you expect me to rein his ass in?"

Throwing all pretense to the wind, Sam said, "He's your boyfriend, Dean, that's how!"

The screech of wheels filled the billowing silence. Dean stopped the Impala in the middle of the road.

"That's not... we're... Sam..." Dean stumbled, his voice oddly quiet given the situation. He didn't continued. He just closed his eyes and shook his head.

"You, what, didn't expect me to notice? Dean, you haven't hit on or slept with a woman in almost a year. Even when you're flirting it's like when you were with Lisa, it's all for show."

A full minute passed in silence. Dean opened his eyes and stared ahead, like his wheels were cranking but he wasn't getting anywhere.

"Then you and Castiel disappear for a 'day off' somewhere and won't tell me where. Come on Dean, I see the way you two look at each other. They way you are around each other, or have been for... forever, it feels like. I just don't understand why you didn't tell me."

Dean put the car in park and leaned back in his seat. He stared at the roof of the car.

"Did you think I'd be, what, upset? That'd I'd care he was a guy? Or an angel?"

"I don't know," Dean replied. Then he started speaking at lightning speed. "Because it's... we've both been... We met when he yanked my ass outa hell, Sam. Then the seals, the apocalypse, that Eve bitch, the freaking Leviathans, and... getting stuck in Purgatory, then Naomi – "

"I get it," Sam interrupted. "It hasn't been easy."

"No, Sam, it's been impossible, and it still is."

"But you're together now?" Sam asked.

"We haven't talked about it," Dean finished lamely. "What does it matter?"

"Well, first of all, it matters because you're my brother," Sam snapped. "And second of all, because he is an angel, and we can't make him do anything. Not as humans. But as his boyfriend, you can – "

"Don't say it like that," Dean interrupted.

"Okay, you prefer, what, lover?"

"What? No! Hell, no!" Dean replied. "Seriously, Sam, no."

"What then?"

"Cas," Dean said. "Can't we just call him Cas?"

"Right," Sam replied. "Are we going to sit here all night?"

Dean shifted the car back in gear and drove off. It was several minutes before he said, "Partner."

"Come again?" he asked.

"Partner," repeated Dean.

Sam went over their last conversation to put the word into context. Then he asked, "Instead of boyfriend?"

"Yeah."

"I guess I figured you'd find that a little too, you know," Sam searched for the right word but finally just blurted, "...gay."

"It's better than lover," Dean said. "A freaking thousand times better."


	30. A Little More Human

**Chapter Thirty  
A Little More Human**

Garth accompanied Linda and Kevin Tran to Kansas for old times sake. Aiden, Krissy, and Josephine were packed and ready to go when he pulled up.

"Wow," Kevin said. "Other people. Real people. Well, almost-real people."

"Don't fret, they're real," Garth said. He smiled at Kevin through the rearview mirror.

"Well, they're hunters," Kevin replied. "But they have lives outside of stabbing monsters and hanging out with angels. That's nice."

"Josephine seems really smart," Linda said.

"She goes by Jo," Garth said. With that, he popped the trunk and got out of the car, waving them over. "You ready already?"

Jo nodded as she tossed two bags in Garth's trunk. She said, "I'll be driving the car Victor left us, but we packed everything in it, so I can only take one passenger."

"Me!" Kevin shouted out the window. "Shotgun!"

"Yeah, all right," Jo replied with a smile.

* * *

The Impala rolled up to its special hideaway outside the Men of Letters Bunker. Dean hadn't said a word to Sam since the day before, when he tersely agreed that stopping at a hotel would be better than driving through the night.

Sam broke the silence and said, "I'm going to see what I can dig up about that shifter. We need to know if he was after you and me, or Krissy and the others, or all of us."

Dean didn't reply.

Sam continued, "Are you going to talk to Cas?" He waited a few seconds before adding, "Like, now?"

"Fine, Sam."

Before Sam could stop his brother, he got out of the car and stamped over to the bunker.

Sam quickly thought up a list of reasons to excuse himself from the vicinity. He decided to head out for a beer only to realize that Dean had taken the keys with him.

* * *

Dean hated the entire situation. He tried to recollect what it was like when things were simpler, before his feelings for Castiel changed. He remembered how hard it was to forgive the angel when he broke Sam's brain. He must have loved Cas then and that was why he took the betrayal so hard.

But that didn't make sense. No, he must've loved him before that.

Why was this so difficult?

He pushed his way into the bunker, stuck in his own head. He stopped at the smell of bacon.

"Hi," Cas said from the war room.

The angel had set the table with three plates of bacon and eggs. Sam must've gotten around to showing Cas how to use the frying pan.

"Hi... how did you..?" Dean began.

"Sam called when you were an hour away, so I thought I'd try to cook," Cas replied.

Sam came in behind Dean.

"I made some for you, too, Sam," the angel added.

"Actually, I've gotta look into this shifter. You know, figure out why he was there. Library's still open, but I need the keys," Sam said.

"Dude, the Men of Letters have better books than the library," Dean pointed out.

"Do they have social worker records from this century?" Sam asked.

"Fine, but don't ding her," Dean replied as he tossed Sam the keys.

"But I made some for you, too," Cas repeated.

"Thanks, Cas. Dean can have my bacon. Call me if you need me."

He left as quickly as he could without actually running, and Dean walked over to the table.

"So you just, made some bacon?" he inquired.

"I thought you'd be upset over the outcome of our last trip."

"You think?"

"And I thought it would be a good way to show you that I can be a little more human," Cas said. "I only require practice."

Just like that, all the agitation that had built up in Dean's brain, that had radiated down into his body, melted away. A few words and the smell of bacon were all he needed.

"Look, Cas, I just helped Krissy and the other tween hunters move across the freaking country so they could take a shot at a normal life, even if it's not safe."

"You don't sound happy."

"I'm not. But, she is. They are. And until they're not, I'm gonna let'em be."

Cas's smile brimmed over his face. His usual blank stare lit up with it.

"But Cas, man, this is my limit, okay? I can't take too much more of it."

The words themselves said very little, but implicitly the angel understood, "You mean you want me to stay here, all the time."

"I know – "

"I can do that," Cas cut Dean off. "At least for a week or two. Tamandriel found me the second time because he was keeping a close watch."

"Letting the trail go cold? I like it. But what about after that?"

Castiel didn't respond; instead, he insisted that Dean sit and eat. The food wasn't half bad.

"I don't want you to be on Angel Lock-down," Dean said. "I want you on the road with us, it's just..."

"I understand."

"Okay, so, training regimen... close quarter combat, like my dad taught me, marksmanship, the whole nine. As long as we're hold up here for a week, we might as well put that time to good use, right?"

"I did have one other project in mind," Cas said.

"More important that this?"

"I – uh... no, but, we talked about it. Making a room with nothing to explode," he replied.

Cas suddenly felt embarrassed. Perhaps Dean no longer held interest in constructing the safe sex room they discussed.

However, Dean had cottoned on, and any doubts the angel had were erased by the smile that turned up on his face.

"You're right, that'll be a good project," Dean said.

* * *

Sam sat, happily eating a salad without snide comments about rabbit food, a novel experience since living with Dean at the bunker.

On an off chance, Sam called the office of Daniel Coopers, and the man actually picked up his phone.

"Coopers," rasped the man's voice.

"Hi, is this Daniel Coopers?"

"Yes, it is. How can I help you?"

"You called me and left a message about a meeting," Sam said. "I'm Sam Smith."

"Who?"

"Sam Smith," Sam repeated. "I got a call about a meeting. You and another social worker wanted to talk to me about a teen emancipation, I think?"

"That's odd," Daniel replied. "I do work teen emancipation cases, sure, but I don't see your name anywhere in my calendar. To be totally honest, I don't recall contacting you at all. Do you know who set the date?"

"You know, I don't remember," Sam lied quickly. He hadn't expected Daniel Coopers to be both a real social worker and alive. "It must be a mix up, right?"

"Most likely," Daniel said. "Thank you, though, for taking the time to call me."

"Yeah, no problem," Sam replied before he hung up.

Most shifters killed the people they planned to impersonate to prevent them from spoiling their plans. There was too much left to chance, especially with the other social worker, Dodge. At the interview, they both mentioned a working history, so they knew each other. Not to mention the fact that it would've been so easy for her to call the real Daniel Coopers or vice versa.

Sam wondered if she noticed anything amiss, and the more he thought about it, the more it bothered him. Had she figured out something was wrong before they interview? Or only after Daniel didn't return from the bathroom? Or was she also a shifter impersonating somebody?

He moved on to coffee and desert when something caught his eye. As if to answer his questions, the woman he had met the day before, glided over to his table and sat across from him.

"Dodge?" he asked.

Sam glanced around to see if she had any friends with her. She didn't.

"Glad you remembered."

"What are you - "

" – doing here?" she finished. "Well, for one thing, you're name isn't Sam Smith."

Sam did his best poker face and asked, "Does that mean you're not a social worker?"

"I'm not. Daniel Coopers is, though, so it wasn't all a lie. You didn't actually meet him today, but I'm guessing, since whoever or whatever-it-was didn't come out of the diner, you already knew that. For future reference, emancipation doesn't – "

"What do you want from me?" Sam interrupted.

"Relax, I'm not your enemy," she replied.

She inconspicuously pushed something in front of him. It was an FBI Badge... a _real_ FBI badge.

"My name is Special Agent Dakota Gage, but like I said before, most people call me Dodge. And we have so much to talk about, Sam Winchester."

* * *

 **Author's Note** : This chapter marks the end of the first episode of the second series (the sixth episode overall) entitled Another Chance at a Brass Ring, or Season 9 Fan Fiction. The episode was originally titled 09x01 Summertime Blues. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far and will check back for future updates.


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